


Dropping His Shield

by whendoestheshipsail



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Brainwashed, Bucky Barnes Feels, Cruise Ship, M/M, Really Rough Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Steve Rogers Feels, The winter soldier wants to bang every version of Steve Rogers, Touch Starved Steve Rogers, and Steve is happy about that, and confused that he's so into being man handled, i don't think it's non con but seriously stay away if that's something you're not into, like more than dub con, playing fast and loose with canon, steve is a little suicidal, steve pimps himself out to get the job done, these two dudes are depressed and in love yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-14 15:42:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18479293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whendoestheshipsail/pseuds/whendoestheshipsail
Summary: After being pulled from the water by the Winter Soldier, Steve is determined to get his friend back.Even if it means going undercover in disguise and sleeping with the enemy.Which it does.But the Winter Soldier is a kinky bastard who likes it rough and Steve finds himself succumbing and enjoying the harsh treatment the Soldier dishes out. Steve has to ask himself what he's willing to do to get his friend back and who will he be when he does?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just to reiterate that the Winter Soldier fucks life he fights in this story. It ain't nice. The best case scenario here is dubious consent. While Steve loves the treatment he gets, he does have some angst over what that says about him. The angst of sadism/masochism is a key part of this story. Please take care of yourselves and stay away if this isn't your cup of tea. Otherwise, hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Also, I had a bit of trouble trying to figure out what to call him and kind of settled on Soldier. I felt like that's how Steve would think of him as he tried to keep him separate in his mind from the friend he knew. If this isn't working, please say. 
> 
> Unbeta'd

Steve put the mesh on his face, surprised by how comfortable it was. “It’s not bad. But I’m not sure I can wear it for three days and nights.”

“I’m not sure you’re supposed to,” Natasha said, almost mumbling.

“You can wear it for as long as you damned well need to,” Fury said, and Steve almost jumped, surprised to hear his voice, from behind him. The man was quiet as a cat when he wanted to be.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Well, I work here, so why wouldn’t I be here? Or did you mean, before you left?”

Steve pushed the button that activated the tech and gave him a new face. It was quite similar to his real face but different. His cheeks weren’t as sharp, his eyebrows were darker, his lips fuller and his jaw was a little softer.

“If it’s possible for you to look like a twink then here it is,” Nat said, nodding appreciatively.

Fury grunted. “Should we make him less attractive?”

“Now that’s a crime against humanity,” Nat said.

“Four days, Steve. If you’re not back after that…bad shit will happen.”

“Like what?” Nat asked, seeming genuinely curious.

He shot her a glare. “I’m not sure yet. Many options. Training with Hulk maybe. Or some bullshit PR work like your USO days.”

“Ouch,” Nat said, and Steve was barely paying attention to them, all he could think was that this would work. No one would recognize him. Bucky wouldn’t recognize him.

“It’s time to go,” he said. Nat and Fury let him leave and he went to the airport with his bag and his passport that was supplied by Nat and of dubious provenance and boarded a commercial flight to France.

Marseilles to be exact. He was fidgety the entire way but he called upon his training and forced himself to sleep, wanting to be prepared for whatever he was walking into.

The intel was good, the Winter Soldier was going to be there and Steve was going to do whatever it took to get Bucky back.

 

***

 

He boarded a cruise liner in Marseilles at 3 the next day and followed a group ofvery attractive men and women to a ballroom where they were given instructions on how the trip was supposed to go and what was expected of them since they were part of the ‘entertainment.’

“Our clients will be working hard and at the end of the day they like a little companionship. If you hit it off with someone you are to stay with them until they are finished with you. Not the other way around. If you really have an issue with someone then please let us know. But otherwise, you are here to provide pleasure, you are expected to perform and be willing and able for sex for the three day cruise. Think of it as a fun filled, floating orgy…which will pay you a hell of a lot of money at the end of it.”

The girl next to him raised her hand. “What is the bonus structure?”

“Good question. You are guaranteed 25,000 at the end of the cruise. But your patrons will tip you as well, just like any other member of the crew. They are encouraged to tip you anywhere from 500 to 1000 per encounter. But it’s not a guarantee! If you have any questions about your NDA’s please come see me. Now then, Chad is coming around with a look book so you can see our clients and find out a little about them and what their sexual preferences and expectations are. Please let us know who you are interested in particularly and we will let them know. Some of our guests are worth more then others and that’s either due to their importance to us or because of their less obvious charms,” she said, and everyone chuckled.

Someone behind Steve said, “Which means they’re ugly dogs.”

“But usually _very_ grateful,” someone murmured. 

Steve turned around to look and saw a very attractive young man with sandy brown hair and bright green eyes who winked at Steve.

Maybe this wasn’t his best idea. And yet, as the book came around and his palms began to sweat, he had to admit that he was feeling more than trepidation. He’d always wondered what Bucky would have been like in bed. He’d had so many fantasies and scenarios he’d played out as he’d imagined him and Bucky getting together and they’d always had similar themes, Bucky wanting him, choosing him, having to have him.

And it had made him wonder what Bucky fantasized about. And if he was just as confident and forceful in bed as he was in real life when he took care of Steve, protected him or helped him finish the battles he could always start but sometimes couldn’t finish.

Was it the same thing for sex? If Steve had thrown down a challenge, made an offer, would Bucky have been the one to finish it? His cock stirred in interest and he pushed the thoughts away as much as he could, turning over page after page as he searched for The Winter Soldier’s profile. How bizarre that his personal sexual preferences were in the book before him and he was seconds away from knowing what sort of lover Bucky was. They should be the same, right? One didn’t change what they got off on due to brainwashing did they?

And there was Bucky’s picture. Or should he say, the Winter Soldier’s picture, because Bucky had always smiled in pictures and this man didn’t smile. He was going by the name Karl Froist and on account of his good looks Steve expected there to be a pay reduction for whoever the Winter Soldier chose but his rate was actually 50k for three days. And below that there was an explanation.

“Only those interested in heavy masochism and submission should consider approaching him. High sex drive as well as his sadistic impulses make him difficult to match. Males preferred.”

That was…surprising.

Perhaps it was to keep people away from him? Give him time to work? Steve couldn’t stop thinking about what it might mean. Because that didn’t sound like Bucky. Bucky had always gone with girls when they were younger and had been considered a generous lover if what he’d heard through the walls was any indication. He’d never heard a girl sound like she was experiencing anything other than pleasure. And god knows he’d listened carefully enough, through the walls, aroused and fascinated, jerking off to the sounds of Bucky getting it on and feeling a weird mix of jealousy and arousal. 

But the Winter Soldier wasn’t his friend. This was an assassin, brainwashed and corrupted. He hadn’t recognized Steve, had been intent on killing him and if he had succeeded in his mission he would have moved on to the next target and he never would have thought about Steve again.

He wouldn’t feel regret or loss because as far as the Soldier was concerned, Steve had never existed in the first place. The Bucky he knew would consider this existence a fate worse than death. Being a murderer for an evil organization just wasn’t something Steve could let continue.

And so this was his plan. Steve was going to find him, stick with him and at the end of this cruise he was going to capture him, get him deprogrammed and get his friend back. No other outcome was acceptable.

The blue eyes in the picture seemed to see through him, and the metal arm was more intriguing then it should have been. How odd was it to think that if things went how they were supposed to on this trip he’d finally get a chance to sleep with Bucky?

Although he might hate it apparently. Because Bucky was going to make it hurt. Not Bucky, the Winter Soldier. He needed to stop thinking of him as Bucky or he’d screw up and not be able to do his mission properly.

Steve got to his room and felt an unfamiliar wave of exhaustion rush over him. The idea of lying to Bucky, of having him but in this horrible, painful way, of having his youthful fantasy ripped to shreds was the last thing he wanted to do.

He sat down on the bed and looked around. His room was fine. Small, obviously because that was the way of cruise ships, even a small luxury one like this one. He unpacked, showered and got dressed for the evening.

His clothing had been carefully chosen by Nat who was rather invested in the whole thing. She’d been a bit cagey about what she knew of the Winter Soldier and now he wondered if she’d heard rumors or seen signs of his deviant preferences. She’d included a leather collar and bracelet, a metal chain necklace in silver that was chunky and which he’d laughed at when he first saw it. It made a lot more sense now.

He put on black jeans, tight and the material soft. Nat said they made his ass look great and there’d been some comment about the way his ‘junk’ was framed that he’d pretended to not hear for both their sakes. The shirt was thin, a very thin t shirt that hugged his arms and rode up his side if he bent over too much. It was so sheer one could see his nipples. He put on the leather bracelet and the chunky silver necklace then agonized over what he should do with his hair.

He could leave it messy, something different to how he usually wore it or he could style it. Bucky had always run a hand through it, messing it up when he had too much gel in there. Maybe this would appeal to the Winter Soldier, make him think about other ways he might mess Steve up.

He drew in a breath, slightly shocked by the thought. It did something to him, made something warm and slithery go through him to think that.

Then he went down to meet the clients.

By the time he got there, the cocktail party was in full swing. The girls were wearing skimpy dresses and high heels and lots of makeup. The boys were different. Two didn’t even have shirts on, one was wearing sparkly hot pants which seemed like a peculiarly bold choice. Steve was definitely the most casual of the group. A few of the men looked at him and gave him a little nod, as if his choices made some sense.

He’d see. Bucky was nowhere to be found. Several women eyed him openly and a few of them even came over and he tried to make himself seem as uninteresting and uninterested as possible while he waited for him to arrive.

And then it happened. He came in wearing a tux of all things, his hair tied back which showed off the handsome lines of his face. The metal hand was covered in a black leather glove and his eyes were just as cold as always. Now Steve felt like he’d chosen the wrong outfit.

The Soldier scanned the room and made his way over to a few of his associates, older men who Steve knew were from powerful drug cartels. Business then, Steve thought grimly. He tried to catch the Soldier’s gaze, looking at him as much as he could which was partially work related but mainly because he couldn’t help himself.

He was sharp and gorgeous and Steve wasn’t sure that Bucky would be able to do anything painful enough to him that wouldn’t make him want him. He looked down, at his empty glass and wondered if he should refill it or not.

In that moment of distraction the Winter Soldier approached him, stopping in front of him, looking him in the eyes. He reached out with his flesh hand, touched the necklace around Steve’s throat gently, almost hesitantly. Then he looked down at the bracelet.

“I saw your picture,” he said to Steve.

He swallowed hard, felt himself blush and wondered if the disguise would blush as well. He really wasn’t sure. “And I saw yours.”

“And what did you think when you saw the things I was interested in? Excitement, fear?”

Steve’s mind raced. “It said you like pain.”

“I do. A lot. A lot can be conveyed through the use of pain and the absence of it.”

“What about pleasure? Doesn’t that say anything?”

A long pause. The Soldier nodded. “It does.”

“Do you do anything without pain?” Steve asked.

“Sometimes? With you? Probably not. You look like you could handle anything I gave you. What’s your price, boy? For one night.”

“Not all three?”

“You may not want all three by the time morning comes.”

His cock was hard in his jeans. This wasn’t Bucky, that much was clear but that didn’t seem to make any difference to his traitorous body. “I think I will.”

The Soldier smiled, one corner of his mouth quirking up. “You like a challenge then?”

“I do,” he said. Because that part was at least true.

The Soldier stared at his nipples through his shirt and then down, staring so long at the bulge in Steve’s jeans that he thought the Soldier must know how he was affected. “So, let me give you two options and then we can see how adventurous you’re feeling. Option one is we leave here, go upstairs and come up with a set of things you’ll tolerate and enjoy and after an hour or two you can leave. For that, I’ll pay you the standard nightly rate.”

“What’s the other option?” he asked, voice rough. Somehow the Soldier had gotten closer to him, was close enough for Steve to smell his cologne and see the flecks of darkness in his eyes.

“The other option is you go upstairs with me and you give me carte blanche over you with the exception of red. I won’t ask you if you like something or not, I’ll just… _take_ and your only option is to let me or to say red and go.”

“What would we do?”

“I’m not sure yet. There’s something about you that I can’t quite pin down,” he said, staring intently at Steve’s face like he was peering through the mask.

“What do you mean?”

His gaze narrowed. “I don’t know. It’s almost a familiarity or something. I know we’ve never met before, I’d remember it, but your eyes, your voice, there’s something there.”

“Good or bad?” he asked, and had to shift on his feet, his cock so swollen it was pinched in his jeans.

“I don’t know yet,” he murmured. And that was all it took for Steve to make his decision. The sane thing to do would be to take the first option but this was Bucky, this was his oldest friend in the world, the man he’d been in love with for all of his unnaturally long life and the idea of seeing him without restraint in this way was too appealing to reject. And Steve was a super soldier. Whatever pain the Soldier would give him he could endure and most likely shake off in a few hours. It wasn’t like he was going to shoot him a few times, beat the shit out of him in an attempt to kill him and then drop him several hundred feet into a body of water, now was it? He might be a killer but when the time had come, he’d not been able to kill Steve.

Plus, the Soldier thought he was human. Perhaps his tastes were extreme for normal men but he wasn’t that. “I’m going to have to go for the red option. The whole night.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The Soldier looked around the room, saw that people were pairing off and leaving. “I’ve spoken to the people I need to and it appears that everyone else is just as eager to turn in as I am. Shall we?” He held out his hand and Steve took it, wondering if he’d just made a terrible mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

The Soldier walked out of the room with him, holding Steve’s hand, basically pulling him along. He adjusted his grip on the Soldier’s hand and got a heated look in return. It was hungry, sexual and predatory. His gaze roamed up and down Steve’s body, as if he were mapping out points of attack and it raised the fight or flight instinct in him, making his body course with adrenaline.

He tried to tamp it down, because this wasn’t going to turn into a fight but his body was buzzing, his breathing coming a little faster as the Soldier kept him close. Elevator doors opened and they went inside, the Soldier pushing him back against a wall, a hand on his throat and the other, the metal one, on his jaw, tilting his head up. For a wild moment Steve thought he knew about the disguise, that he was going to take it off of him or deactivate it but he just turned Steve’s head, buried his face along the column of Steve’s neck and Steve started to tremble. His hands came up, landed on Bucky’s biceps and held on so he didn’t fall down. Bucky shifted forward a little and his cock rubbed up against Steve’s. He chuckled darkly.

“If you weren’t hard I’d have sent you back.”

“Why?” he gasped.

“I don’t want to hurt you for no reason. I do that enough in my normal life. What I want is for you to take the things I do to you and enjoy them, understand that there isn’t any…gentleness in me and want my touch on you anyway.”

Steve groaned a little, felt the hard bar of the Soldier’s erection grind into him. “But, there must be. This, this is gentle.”

“How do you figure?” And he let Steve go, the vague sense of floating sticking to him. Being pinned in place had felt…good. Now he was free, untouched, and Steve hated it. He’d take a crick in the neck and a rough grind over nothing. _Oh._

The door opened and he dragged Steve along again, down a corridor and then to a closed door which he opened. They went into the Soldier’s cabin and Steve looked around, half expecting to find weapons covering every surface. There was no sign of that. There was a pair of shoes tucked neatly next to the closet, side by side and the heels touching the walls. Just how he’d always stored them before. He ached inside at the sight of it. Some part of his Bucky was still in there. He knew it. This was proof.

Crappy, small proof, but something. At this point he would hang on to anything. “Take your clothes off,” the Soldier ordered.

Steve hesitated for just a second and then pulled the shirt off over his head and undid the button of his pants, drew the zipper down and glanced at him, wanting to be watched, needing some sign that this interested him at least.

The Soldier was undoing his bow tie, pulling it off and tossing it to the side. He sat down in a chair, legs spread a little, eyes cold.

“Did you prep yourself for anal?”

His brain ground to a halt. He’d never done anal sex, of course. And he had no idea what sort of prep was supposed to go into that. Like, not really.

“Sorry, I don’t…I don’t know. I might be in over my head a little here.” He’d expected the man to hit him, maybe punch him and leave him bruised and bloody. He’d thought that would be what got him off but this wasn’t the calculation he’d prepared for. Seemed a serious oversight now that the moment was here.

“Cute. Go and do so now then. There is a kit in the bathroom. I have to make a phone call anyway,” he said, and he stood again, went to the sliding door and out to the balcony leaving Steve alone in the stateroom. Steve forced himself into motion, went to the bathroom and found an enema kit. _Jesus Christ._

Bucky wanted to fuck him up the ass. Or, the Soldier did. He couldn’t decide how much of his old friend was actually in there. This man wanted his dick to go _there._ He read the instructions and cleaned himself out then hopped in the shower, washing all of himself quickly because it seemed like the right thing to do. He got out and reached for a towel. There were no towels. There had been towels before, hadn’t there?

“Come on. You don’t need to dry off.” The Soldier called through the door.

Steve dripped, wiped at the water slipping into his eyes and looked at himself quickly in the mirror. His disguise held, the claims to being waterproof happily true. A shiver went through him, the air conditioning cranked up to high.

The Soldier was back in his seat, gazing at Steve interestedly. “Come here, pretty boy,” he said, gesturing to his lap. Steve went forward, felt himself blushing. He was deeply uncomfortable and they hadn’t even done anything yet. This man was going to hurt him. When? How? The suspense, the dread, was getting to him.

He gestured for Steve to straddle his lap and so he did, fully aware of how open he was, his legs spread and his cock vulnerable, his cheeks spread over the man’s thighs. And his balls were on display too. His body had gone flaccid during the enema.

The Soldier licked his lips, hands biting into Steve’s upper thighs as soon as he was lowered, pushing so hard and deep into his skin that he’d bruise. Steve drew in a breath at the pain and the Soldier pressed harder and dragged him just a little closer. The closeness, the constant small pains stole Steve’s breath, made him gasp and the way the Soldier watched him, hungrily, pupils dilating, silently demanding Steve continue to look at him as he continued to hurt him was weirdly emotional.

“Please stop,” he said, and he blinked, felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes. They weren’t pain related, at least not from physical pain but because this was so close to Bucky but not. Was so close to something affectionate and loving but not. His cock pulsed, hardening through the pain, and that was part of why he was sad too. He didn’t like the idea that pain could turn him on. That wasn’t…normal.

“So here is what’s going to happen. I’m going to fuck you. I don’t care whether you come or not but I want to know if you are. You can beg me to stop, say whatever you want but unless you say red then I’m going to continue. Here is lube,” he said, and let go of Steve’s right thigh. Steve gasped as the blood rushed in to his leg. The Soldier put a small bottle into Steve’s hand. “You can use it to jerk yourself off or to prep yourself, whatever. But when I’m done playing with you and decide to fuck you, that’s it. There will be no prep beyond what you do to yourself, do you understand me?”

Steve understood that those were words and actions and how they went together but it still didn’t make sense to him. Not really. “So what are you going to do to me?”

The Soldier smiled at him. _Smiled._ “I’ve decided I’m just going to play with you. Keep you here like a fuck doll until I’m ready.”

What did that _mean_? Was it going to be difficult to make him hard or something? He looked down, saw the thick bulge of the Soldier’s hard cock in his pants and licked his lips.

“You stay the night and I’ll fuck your mouth in the morning. Those lips are obscene.” Steve licked his lips without thinking about it. “You have that look on your face, like a born cocksucker, but I’m not interested in that right now.”

He did? “Should I call you, Karl?” Steve asked him.

A brief pause. “No. You can call me Steve. I think I’d like to hear you say that name while I bury myself inside you.”

“What?” Steve asked, shocked. But the Soldier didn’t answer and then there were fingers on his nipples, pinching hard, then harder, making him writhe. The Soldier kissed him hard, forced his mouth open, shoved his tongue inside and Steve lost himself to sensation.

He whimpered in pleasure at the feeling of Bucky’s lips finally against his, at getting to kiss the love of his life when he’d thought he never would. His cock was hard, hard as iron and Bucky wrapped a hand around him, squeezed tight, so firmly that Steve cried out in pain. When the Soldier let go, his cock throbbed in pain and pleasure. So much pain followed by a crest of pleasure, almost like an orgasm. And all he could do was gasp through it, roll his hips to try to get more or get away or something.

“You’re leaking everywhere, boy. Keep that up and this won’t last long. You want me to take you with no prep, baby?” The Soldier asked, and bit him on his bottom lip.

“No, of course not,” he managed, almost a whisper. The bottle was plucked from his hand. Everything was hazy, his cock still ached, he could feel the bruises on his legs near his ass and yet he was so hard and all he could think about was having more and more of Bucky. He leaned forward, seeking Bucky’s lips again.

“Then start opening yourself up,” the Solider ordered.

Steve blushed, pulled back, looked him in the eyes. He couldn’t keep it straight in his mind.

The Soldier watched him, watched him from less than six inches away, gaze locked on him. “Why aren’t you doing it?” He held up the bottle, a reminder.

He shook his head. “I don’t know,” he whispered and he felt more of those tears in his eyes and if he could freeze time he would. Until he got himself under control. _There is no control here, with him._ Pain or pleasure, this was _some_ version of Bucky and all he could think was ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and maybe the Soldier was right, all pain was sensation and that made it good, and so Steve wanted it and he just felt stupid with lust and confusion.

“Who do you remind me of?” the Soldier asked, and he kissed Steve softly. So sweetly that Steve arched forward, tightened his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and tried to tell him how much he wanted him, that he was so overcome with it that he couldn’t function.

“Please,” he whispered, and he buried his face against the Soldier’s neck and kissed him there.

“I like your arms around my neck. Clasp your hands on your forearms. Stay like that.” Steve did as he was told, breathing hard. Distantly, he heard the cap open, realized Bucky was putting slick on his fingers and then a finger slipped down his crack, stopped on his hole and Steve breathed in and out, excited and afraid at once. “You’re so sweet. I’m going to wreck you. I promise you I’m going to make you cry,” he said, and a slick finger sank deep into his ass. Steve bucked forward, eyes squeezed closed, attempting to get away or get closer. “I think that’s what you want,” he said, and another finger joined him, pushed into him, his ring burning bright with pain.

“I warned you,” he said, and he continued to push in with two fingers, Steve’s internal muscles spasming in protest, locking down on the intrusion. He pulled the fingers out and shoved deep again, the lack of lube applied evenly making him shake with pain.

Steve didn’t know how long it went on for. There’d be pauses, fingers withdrawn and then back, cooler and slicker, over and over again, forcing him open, demanding every scrap of his attention as his body was invaded and opened. Fingers deep to the knuckle and then a third one and Steve cried out, pushed up a little, trying to raise himself away from the hard touch.

“Oh no you don’t. Ride my fingers.”

And so he did, he made himself relax and settle back down, panting, suddenly aware that his face was covered in sweat where he was tucked in tight against the Soldier. His abuser and protector in one. “Good boy. Here’s three.”

“It hurts,” he managed and licked Bucky’s neck.

“That’s not a color. Open my pants. Fuck, the sounds you make.” Steve was shaking, trembling. How did this hurt so badly? He leaned back a little, blinking at the bright light, and the Soldier slapped him hard across the face, whipping his head to the side. His cock pulsed and he looked down, not understanding how it could be so hard still, why come was sliding down the shaft, why his balls were so hard and tight and full when all he was experiencing was pain.

The slap did jerk him into motion. He fumbled the pants open, dismayed at how clumsy he was, wanting to apologize.The Soldier slipped down in his seat a little, giving him access. “Take me out,” he demanded, roughly. Steve pulled his underwear aside and there was Bucky’s cock, so hard and aroused. This should be different. This should be done with love, as the person he really was. In that moment Steve hated himself. This deception was wrong.

The Soldier kissed him then, hard, bit into Steve’s bottom lip so sharply he tasted blood and then he drew back, nipped Steve’s jaw and then his neck, licking a spot and then biting down, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

Bucky’s fingers went to Steve’s nipples and pinched him til the points felt white-hot, again and again. It didn’t take long before they were so sore he began to flinch away from the touch and that made the Soldier breathe faster, made his giant cock red with need. He hadn’t known Bucky’s cock was so big, wondered distantly if the serum had done that.

“Fuck my fist,” The Soldier demanded, making an incredibly tight ring around the head of Steve’s cock.

“Your grip is too tight,” he said, and the soldier chuckled and pushed his fingers down, pain radiating from the head of Steve’s cock downwards as he was caught in a vise like grip. His hips jerked up, into the grip, which made no sense.

“Look at you. Such a pain slut. Are you going to stay hard when my cock is buried in you?”

Steve bit his lip and closed his eyes, afraid of the answer.“Say the name. Say Steve,” Bucky demanded and Steve shook his head in negation. He couldn’t do that.

“Karl,” he tried, and Bucky bit his neck where it met his shoulder. Steve wrapped his arms around the Soldier’s neck, buried his face there and breathed him in. “Not that, please. I don’t want to say that.” He licked his lips, rubbed his nose along the strong column of his neck. “You feel like home,” he said, and he prayed he hadn’t actually said it out loud.

Maybe he didn’t because the Soldier didn’t say anything or push him away or hurt him. Steve heard the snick of the lube bottle again, the squish of it being applied as the Soldier slicked up his cock and then he was using his superhuman strength to lift Steve off of his lap and pull him closer. The head of the Soldier’s cock lined up to Steve’s entrance.

“Gonna sit you down on my cock. One long slide, you hear me? Don’t stop. Breathe out, try to relax as I slide into you.”

Steve heard panting, long sharp inhalations and exhalations and then his hair was grabbed, his head yanked back and away from Bucky’s neck, the expression on the man’s face was beautiful, lust filled, “Come on, sweetheart. I’m hard. Aren’t you going to take care of me?” he asked, and that was Bucky’s voice, his words and Steve was helpless against that. How many nights and years had he wished for Bucky to call him sweetheart?

He let his thighs lower down, felt the man’s massive cock breach him and he cried out, tried to stop but the Soldier gripped his hips, pushed him down relentlessly and Steve’s eyes were wide with pain as he stared at Bucky, felt love coring into him endlessly, impossibly, threatening to tear him in two. He whimpered as Bucky sank deeper and deeper inside of him.

“There you go. I’m all the way in. You feel that?” he asked, looking down at their joined bodies. Steve’s balls were on Bucky’s lap and the pain in his ass was different then anything he’d ever experienced. More intimate, more personal. He felt helpless, boneless. And needy.

“I’ve never done this before,” he said. _Please kiss me, please tell me you remember and that you love me._

“And?” The Soldier demanded, cupping his jaw with his clean metal hand. Steve turned his head, kissed the pad of his thumb. “Still hard, that’s impressive.”

More than hard. He only wanted one thing, to be closer to Bucky, to find him somewhere under the Soldier’s exterior, to be a home for Bucky. Even if it was just like this, by letting him use Steve’s body and enduring it all. “I’m yours. Do whatever…whatever you want,” he said, even as his ass spasmed, clenched, his balls throbbed and another gush of pre-come welled out of him.

“Say Steve.”

He shook his head.

The Soldier laughed then and his hips shifted down and then up, his cock sliding halfway in and out of Steve’s ass. Steve threw himself forward, inhaling Bucky’s skin, letting the pain roll through him and swallow him up.

“Fuck yourself on me. Up and down. Work me. Come on.” Fingers found Steve’s nipples again, twisted hard and Steve jerked away from the pain, the cock in his ass sliding out a bit and then fingers pulled his nipples so he tried to get closer, wanting to relieve the pain which just meant his ass burned again as the cock went in deeper.

“Fuck, it’s too much,” Steve whimpered, even as he began to move his hips a little.

“And yet, you’re still hard. Fuck, you’re beautiful. Deeper sweetheart. Take me deeper inside you.” Steve tried, even though it made him catch his breath in agony. He could do this. All day if he had to. “Tighten baby. Tighten that ass as I fuck in deep.”

He whimpered and trembled, cried out when he managed to weakly tighten on the shaft inside him and felt the Soldier force through the clenching muscle. “Yeah, that’s so good, sweetheart.”

The words did something to Steve, made him moan, desperate to please him. It felt like Steve was falling, disappearing into nothing but feeling and breath. His muscles were shaking, practically non-responsive.

“You going down? Going to leave me with the heavy lifting?” And the Soldier lifted him by his hips and settled him again, thrusting in and out of him, forcing a rhythm as Steve whimpered and groaned with each thrust, only able to take it and feel.

Steve was just _there_ , just a heavy, boneless body draped around him, somehow resigned, peaceful, grateful to be used, even as the pain somehow eased and became wider, more diffuse.

There was no fight in him, no protest left as the Soldier’s cock hardened further inside his ass, tried to shove that last bit deeper. Steve felt breath against his ear, heard the sounds coming from his throat as Bucky fucked into him, used him, broke him down.

In and out, over and over again and with each thrust Steve became heavier, almost boneless, tears slipped from his eyes, soaked Bucky’s collar and then the man under him froze, groaned deeply, buried himself hard and he came deep in Steve’s ass. Hands stroked down his back softly, almost lovingly and then he felt fingers at his rim, pressing gently where cock met ass and Steve shuddered. He continued to touch him there, almost petting him, finger pressing lightly at where they were joined, making Steve shiver and jerk. And every time he did he felt a responding pulse from the Soldier’s cock in his ass.

Finally, the Soldier’s cock slipped free and Steve felt a mess leaking out of him, horrified and wrong as the soldier lifted himself and Steve up, then set him down on his bed.

“Lay there, I’ll clean you up,’ he said, and Steve closed his eyes and waited, not really sure what the hell was going on now. If the call came now and he had to jump up and fight he wouldn’t be able to do it. His ass throbbed, his nipples were hot points of pain and he could feel Bucky’s spend inside him. He swallowed and felt the bite marks on his neck. He licked his lips and tasted blood, felt the hot sting on his bitten lips.

He’d never felt like this before.

He could sleep for a week. For a man who’d been an insomniac since the moment he came out of the ice it was an incredible feeling. He exhaled slowly and forced his eyes open when the bed dipped.

Christ, Bucky was beautiful. His dark brown hair was sweaty at the temples, his cheeks were pink, lips swollen from kissing and he looked like a man who’d just been taken care of. There was a softness around his eyes, in his shoulders, like some tension was gone, spent deep inside Steve and that thought was enough to make him beyond certain he’d do this again in a heartbeat if that was what the Soldier wanted.

He wiped gently at Steve’s nipples with a damp cloth and then harder, making Steve whimper. Then he slipped down, wrapped the cloth around Steve’s cock and began to jerk him off slow and firm.

Suddenly he was fully hard again, the rough glide of the cloth making it the worst jerk off he’d ever had. But he looked at Bucky sitting next to him, saw the eagerness on his face and he willed himself closer to the edge, wanting to come for him.

“I’m gonna come,” he said, and Bucky drew the cloth away, left his cock red and chafed and on the verge of orgasm.

His hand went down to finish himself off and Bucky grabbed it, pushed it away. “You had your chance to come when I was inside you, remember? Now it’s time to rest for a little.”

“Here?”

The Soldier’s lips twitched and it reminded him of Bucky. But if it had been Bucky he had no doubt the man would be cuddling him, spooning him, kissing him and telling him how good he’d been, how beautiful he was. This wasn’t Bucky. “You can get up and leave now or you can stay here in my bed. If you stay I’m going to fuck you in the night. And it’s going to hurt, baby,” he said, voice low with lust and promise.

Steve licked his lips, almost afraid of the conflicting feelings inside him. Bucky put a finger under his chin, forced him to look him in the eyes. “I’ve got a lube shooter. I’ll get you all slick and wet. You won’t tear, I don’t want that, but you’re sore and swollen and my cock is going to feel like it’s reaming you open.” Steve bit his lip, shook his head as though denying it but he wasn’t sure what he was disagreeing with. That the Soldier wanted him like that, that Steve knew he was going to stay, that a part of him was terrifyingly intrigued at the prospect.

Or maybe that their first night together was going to be like this. One lie, deception and falsity after another.

“I’m going to stay,” he said, and the Winter Soldier smiled, leaned down and kissed him softly, sucked Steve’s bitten lip into his mouth and Steve moaned, fingers clutching onto him, pleading for him to be gentle with him.

He stopped, pulled back, brows tight together in a frown. “Were you a virgin, sweetheart?” 

“That bad?”

“No, but you felt like it. Acted like it. It was impressive.”

He blushed. “Does that mean you…liked it?”

“Want me to show you how much I liked it,” he said, and put a hand over his cock. Steve tracked his movement, swallowed hard when he realized the Soldier was hard again. His hole clenched, his body was electric, no, _no_ he definitely didn’t want it again.

And yet he was reaching up, slid a hand along the stubble of Bucky’s jaw and pulled him down to kiss him. He came pliantly, unresisting, kissing Steve softly, letting his mouth be gentle, open so Steve could kiss him as he wanted to, exploring his mouth until he found himself hard and shifting, encouraging Bucky to roll on top of him.

Bucky lay on top of him, Steve rutting against him in little movements. “Maybe I should sleep now. Rest, for later.”

“Too late for that now, doll,” he said, grinding his hips down against Steve. “You got me all worked up.”

Steve’s cock leaked, his ass clenched and for some reason he really, really didn’t want to think about, his thighs were spreading open in invitation. “I like you calling me that.”

“Do you? You want to be my sweetheart? My doll?”

He leaned up, kissed him, sighed into the Soldier’s mouth, incapable of denying it, too emotional to agree with him, because this was what he’d always wanted. When he’d been sick and weak, the desire to be Bucky’s, his sweetheart, to have that strength surround him had been almost overwhelming.

He still woke up to thoughts of him, to various times he’d felt Bucky’s strength in the past. The weight of his body, when he’d tackled him to the ground to protect him from enemy fire during the war. Or when he’d held him close because it was fucking freezing in Germany during the cursed winter.

But the worst nights were when he woke up to dreams of the things he _didn’t_ have, thought he never would have had, Bucky’s kisses, saying he’d loved him, being intimate with him. He’d waited his whole life, never even danced with anyone else because it was Bucky or nothing. He’d been stubborn like that. Faithful.

Devoted, he supposed. So, yeah, he wanted to be Bucky’s sweetheart. And if he had no other option would be the Soldier’s sweetheart instead?

He tried to pull him closer, adjust his hips, wanting it to be more comfortable for the body on top of him, to be softer for Bucky but when he felt the brush of the man’s hard cock against his taint and his rim he froze, swallowed a whimper and the Soldier was watching him, smiled slowly and beautifully.

“You can still leave,” he said, in the Soldier’s voice, no affection, just lust as he swiped his tongue along Steve’s lower lip.

“No, no, that’s never gonna happen,” he said, barely stopping himself from calling him ‘Bucky,’ from saying that this time things would be different. That he wouldn’t fail him, wouldn’t let him fall and become a victim, become brainwashed and a weapon. A murderer.

Bucky pushed back from him, sat back and looked at Steve’s body, his open legs and he touched Steve’s cock, stroked a finger between his balls and palmed the hard, tight orbs softly. Steve’s eyes slipped closed. He thrust lightly into the touch.

“Here, baby,” the Soldier whispered and there was pressure against his rim, something sliding inside him, he felt liquid gush into him, viscous and cold and then he was empty. 

The bed shifted, the heat and the weight of his love over him and Steve reached down, ran a hand along Bucky’s hard shaft, felt the Soldier press into him, groan in need. He _needed_ Steve. Needed to be inside him.

“God you make me hard. Gonna hurt you, baby doll. Hurt you and make it better.”

He opened his eyes, searched the depths of the cold blue gaze above him, hoping to see kindness, hints of the man he’d been before. “You want me to feel pleasure then? Feel better after you hurt me?”

“I do,” he said, quietly. “I want you to ache with need and then I want to ruin it. I want to kiss you until you’re weeping and open for me and then work you over until you flinch away from me.” He kissed him thoroughly, said quietly against Steve’s lips, “I’m gonna give you pleasure, sweetheart. Just enough so you come back.”

“What if…what if I want more than that? More kindness? Could you do that?”

Bucky frowned at him, thrust into Steve’s hand. “Line me up, baby. Gonna fuck you now.”

Steve took a moment to do so because his body didn’t want it, was already afraid of the monstrous cock impaling him again. Bucky kissed him gently, his lips, his neck, practically worshipping him. Tears slipped down his cheek and Bucky kissed those too, licked them off his face and panted against him, body trembling in sudden urgency to be inside Steve’s body.

He shoved Steve’s hand out of the way and took himself in hand, lined himself up against Steve’s hole, sounding wrecked, “Tilt your hips up, push out, and try to relax, baby.” And then he was pushing again, pressing and pressing until the head of his cock was inside of him. Steve cried out, legs clenching tight on Bucky’s hips, arms wrapped tight around him so he didn’t shove the Soldier away.

Fingers on his nipple, pressing, a nail digging in and the shock of it made his body arch, distracted from his ass for just a moment and the Soldier drove his hips forward, burying himself deep inside Steve, his hole and passage protesting but slick, so slick. He ground deeper, deeper and then pulled out oh so slowly before sliding in deep again.

Steve met his gaze, saw the dark pleasure there, the flush on his cheeks, the need in his breathing and the pain faded a little, made this a challenge, almost a quest. To please him. To be pliant enough for Bucky to fuck him, get what he needed even when it cost him to do it. “I could…I could do this all day,” he said, voice trembling.

“Of course you can,” Bucky was moving in and out of him now, thoroughly plowing deep and then withdrawing, Steve whimpering on each thrust, his body shaking in emotion and physical sensation. Pain was such a stupid word. So small and narrow, didn’t come close to describing _this._

“You’re hard, sweetheart,” the Soldier said against his lips and then a cool metal hand began to jerk him off, making his hole clench and unclench, Bucky’s hips slamming home roughly in response.

“Oh my god, you were built for this, weren’t you? I think you’re going to come. You’re going to cry and come for me, sweetheart, aren’t you?”

“Kiss me,” he demanded and the Soldier did, bruisingly hard, his hips fucking into him erratically and then he was coming, each pulse of his come echoing through Steve’s body. The hand on his cock worked him and suddenly Steve was coming too, come landing high on his chest and then dribbling onto his stomach.

The Soldier kept touching him, kept squeezing and pumping and he whimpered, shook, finally begged him to stop because the pain of it was too much. Some time passed, he didn’t know how long, and then it was almost like a switch inside him flicked on or opened, and his cock was filling again, getting harder as the relentless pain continued. “Look at you, oh doll, that’s interesting, isn’t it?”

“No, please no. I don’t want to,” he said, begging the Soldier with his words, pleading with his gaze. But the grip was relentless, hurried and hard and Steve was coming again without really understanding how, the orgasm horrible and sharp. He felt boneless after, was startled when lips and tongue slipped across his chest, the soldier tasting the come on his chest. He pulled back, licked his lips.

“Almost sweet,” he said, and he rubbed a hand through the mess on Steve’s stomach, smearing it into Steve’s skin, rubbing until he was sticky and felt disgustingly covered in come.

And then the Soldier pulled out of his ass and come gushed out of him, the Soldier slipping down to see it, a finger at his rim, pulling it open a little to look at him, _in_ him.

“You’re okay, baby,” he said, and petted Steve’s taint while he watched his hole leak come and lube. He went back to the bathroom, came back with another cloth and cleaned Steve up gently, even put a light kiss on his hip.

“You are amazing.”

 _I love you_ , Steve thought, sliding closer to sleep.

“You want me to take you back to your room?” he asked.

“No, I want to stay here.”

The soldier looked at him for a long moment. “I’ll take you again in the night then. And in the morning we’ll get cleaned up and then I’m gonna fuck your throat raw.”

Steve nodded jerkily in understanding. His cock twitched but that was it, which he was glad for because the idea of being taken again was terrifying. It wasn’t something to get hard over.

Something didn’t add up, though.“You keep offering me a way out.”

“And you don’t take it. All these tears and whimpers, the pain you’re taking and you’re not leaving.” He lay down behind Steve, pulled him close, spooning him carefully.

“Sleep baby, you’re going to need a bit of rest.”

Lips kissed the back of his neck and then he felt the Soldier go to sleep, almost instantly, the way soldiers could when they knew it was now or never.

Steve lay there for awhile, cataloguing his body, how he felt, the various pains. The things they’d done. The soft words the Soldier used before hurting him intimately. And he’d come. Twice. He touched his nipple, the poor nub hot and aching. He touched his cock, sticky, not even soft but half hard for some unknown reason and squeezed carefully. There was pain there too from the rough grip.

And then he reached between his legs, felt the puffy entrance to his hole and had a wild moment where he wondered who he was, what he’d done and let happen to him.

He should leave. The sane thing to do was leave. Clearly, this wasn’t Bucky. Not really, because Bucky wouldn’t hurt him like this and get off on it. Wouldn’t thrust harder when Steve cried out in pain or tried to escape. It was his body but not his mind. His spirit or self. The Soldier fucking him was something else, created in a lab and designed to torture and kill. If he got Bucky back, _when_ he got him back, he’d have to explain this. Explain why he’d let himself be fucked. Why he’d managed to come if he hated it so.

That was another day. And he wasn’t leaving.

Instead, he felt himself easing backwards a little, pushing his bottom tighter to the Soldier who thrust a little in his sleep and Steve bit his lip, tears filling his eyes. He wasn’t going anywhere. He slipped into sleep and dreamed. In his dreams, the soldier called him sweetheart, baby doll and he fucked him and fucked him until he bled.

He woke to a finger pushing lightly at his hole, testing him. He hissed in discomfort.

The Soldier chuckled. Bucky’s rough morning voice that he’d grown up with. “Oh, I like that. Here you go, baby, let’s make you all slick and easy for me, huh? You’re still a little loose so that’s good. You gonna be an easy ride for me?”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that but then there was the press of plastic at his ass and another squirt of lube deep inside him and the Soldier was urging him up to hands and knees, turning him to face the wall where a mirror was. “You’re going to keep your head up and your eyes on me. Want to see what I’m doing to you. Understand?”

Steve nodded, shuffled his legs apart a little and got his elbows on the bed. A metal hand went down his back gently, his attention focused on Steve’s hole. He pushed in steadily and Steve’s body bowed, trying to get away.

“Fuck, that’s beautiful,” the Soldier said and he set a brutal pace, fucking in and out of Steve quickly, a hand on his low back urging him to tilt and shift until Steve shouted when the Soldier hit his prostate. Steve’s whimpers of pain shifted, a little deeper as pleasure clawed into him.

The Soldier nailed it over and over, waves of sensation going through him, competing with the pain, becoming something else. The Soldier was staring at Steve’s cock in the mirror and he looked too, shocked to see long strands of come sliding out of him and leaking onto the bed, his cock achingly hard and red.

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” the Soldier grunted, still fucking into him hard and fast, “To hate something and want it at the same time?”

Steve didn’t respond.

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come.”

“Hurts too much,” he ground out. “Please, stop.”

“Stop isn’t red,” the Soldier said and he slapped Steve’s ass hard. Then harder again. Their eyes met in the mirror, some primal message being conveyed and then understood. Hands clamped hard on Steve’s hips, dragged him back so the Soldier could grind into him to the very last millimeter, his body falling forward, draped over Steve’s back, riding him, forcing his attention to shift and be on supporting them as the Soldier bred him roughly.

He was a thing now, a hole for the Soldier to get off in, he thought as the man chased his own pleasure. And he’d known that, of course he had, but this made him feel like it, like a hole and the Soldier got impossibly harder, slammed deeper and deeper and Steve was shaking and holding his breath as the Soldier abruptly came in him and Steve came hard too, shouting with the shock of it. The Soldier withdrew, come splattering on Steve’s back and Steve’s heart pounded like he was dying.

He sat back on his heels and looked at Steve’s hole, put a finger on the rim and slipped inside, hooking a finger inside and starting at Steve in the mirror. “You’re open now. I fucked you open and you finally stayed that way. You’re gaping a little. Feel,” he said, and the finger slipped inside him a little, brushed along his insides unnaturally. Steve shivered, “Here is where you’re pink and soft and vulnerable for me.”

Steve blushed, felt tears in his eyes and was unprepared for the Soldier to grab him, flip him to his back and climb over him.

“Crying? Because you hate it or because you love it? Because you’ve lost yourself here or you’ve found yourself?” he asked, his cock softening and shiny with come and lube and he had an image of the Soldier crawling up his body, forcing him to clean his cock off with his tongue and his mouth, the weird degradation of that. Which he didn’t want. God, no.

His body began to tremble and his chest seized up a little in panic. “When this is over, I might take you with me. I think I could make you into something else completely. Unrecognizable to yourself. Do you know how people are remade into something new?”

Steve swallowed, forced out words. “Don’t. Don’t say that. This isn’t me or what I like. It isn’t you,” he said, and swallowed hard to stop himself from babbling. Steve’s fingers slipped between his legs, hand hovering over his hole, the area so hot and sore and angry that he was almost afraid to touch himself.

The Soldier chuckled. “Are you saying you wouldn’t? Are you saying that isn’t what you want from me? I see it. I feel it. What is it between us?” he asked, soundingdesperate and half- crazed. “You didn’t call me Steve, either.” He kissed Steve softly on the lips, on each closed eye, like a lover would. “You cried but I didn’t break you down. Don’t you wonder what that will take? I think maybe we break you together. The two of us.”

The Soldier got up out of the bed. Headed to the shower. “If you come with me I’ll wash you clean,” he said, and held out a hand temptingly. An invitation. The kindness. And then he’d fuck Steve again. And then he’d kiss Steve again and on and on and it wouldn’t be Steve breaking all at once it would be a grind into nothingness, into dust and he’d let it happen.

He didn’t know how to say no to any version of Bucky. He turned over, gave the Soldier his back. The Soldier walked away from him and went to the shower. Steve got up, haltingly put on his clothes, found himself limping out the door and down the hall, unable to rush because of how battered he was on the inside. He put a hand low on his abdomen, feeling weirdly bruised there, fucked so deeply and intensely it was like his guts had been pounded too. Maybe they had.

He went to his room and locked the door, hands shaking. He got out his special comms and activated it. “Extraction needed at these coordinates,” he said, and there was a crackle as response. He opened the door of his balcony and jumped off the boat, plunging into the icy water and waited. Either he’d die here or they’d pick him up.

What did it matter?


	3. Chapter 3

The news came out two days later, a string of bodies found floating in the mediterranean sea, a mafia don and his lieutenant, a drug cartel leader and his right hand man all dead and Steve knew the Winter Soldier was the responsible party. If he’d stayed, maybe those people would be alive. Not that he wanted them alive. Some people didn’t deserve to live. The men he’d taken out had deserved it. But still.

He’d abandoned his mission. Wasn’t he supposed to protect all people?

His mission to take the Winter Soldier into custody and deprogram him. He’d…failed. He’d been extracted four hours later, his small beacon blinking weakly in the dark and then the Quinjet was over him and he was pulled up and Nat was there and she didn’t say a word or ask a single question as he sat there and shivered.

That felt like a lifetime ago. His body was almost completely healed by now. Every now and again he could feel the faintest twinge in his ass if he sat down in just the right (or wrong) way and ground down hard.

But otherwise, it was gone. He’d touched himself it in the shower, found his hole tight and back to the way it was supposed to be. The slick, brushing tip of his finger had reminded him viscerally of the Winter Soldier and he’d shivered, felt sick and his cock had twitched all at the same time. And truthfully, that was just too much for him to deal with.

His first night and day back he’d spent limping around his apartment, wandering to the mirror and back to bed, over and over again, examining the bruises the Soldier had left on him. He’d touched them and remembered the weight of him, the scent, the _need_ that was there. How easy it had been to just give in and do whatever the man wanted. He’d felt…alive in that room.

Emotionally awake in a way he hadn’t ever been before. The closest parallel was probably from the war. They’d do their jobs, bloody and covered in dirt, relieved to be alive at the end of the day. Secure in the knowledge he was with his best friend who’d die for him. That they’d die for each other. Each day had been hard won.

There was a reason soldiers didn’t function well when they were home from war. And there was a reason most men wanted to go back and felt like they were failures if they had to leave their fellow soldiers behind. Every time he’d peered at a bruise, stroked it, felt that clench in his stomach or a shiver up his spine as he thought about Bucky —No, not Bucky, the Soldier, he reminded himself— doing those things to him had been confusing.

Because a part of him would always feel like he was home if he was next to that body. A part of him would always want him sexually because that was how he’d felt his entire life. He couldn’t even claim that he was against the violence of it all. Steve had always loved to wander into a fight, suspected some part of him liked to get the crap beaten out of him just to _see_ , to _know_ that he could endure and survive it. The Soldier had made him feel like that again.

He’d jerked off a lot over the last two days as well. More then he had since he’d come out of the ice. He’d touch the bruises and get hard. He’d remember the cajoling, forceful way the Soldier would use him and he’d find his hand wrapped around his cock. He’d get in the shower and he’d touch his hole, force fingers in roughly, seek out the most tender places inside himself and he’d come with barely a hand on himself.

It’d been a fucked up two days. No milder description was appropriate.

Now he was up, beating the shit out of a punching bag and trying to figure out what was next, what he was supposed to do and how he could go on knowing that the Winter Soldier was out there.

Had he found someone else to fuck yet? Someone else he harmed and debauched and twisted so much they questioned their very own identity? Maybe that was just Steve. Because Bucky had been everything to him. All that was good where the Winter Soldier was all that was bad, and yet his devotion was so strong that it was like he was being pulled or twisted into something new because of him.

“I think we should talk about it,” Nat said, suddenly beside him.

He gave her a dark glare. “There is nothing to talk about.”

“Well, that’s not true. I’ve been on missions with him, Steve. I know him, at least a little, and I know there isn’t anyone kind in there and if there is it’s buried under programming. I know you thought you could find it, find _him_ , but you can’t blame yourself—“

“What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ was hard to understand?” he growled, and punched the bag so hard it burst and flew off the hook. _Fuck._

“We have a mission,” she said, after a long moment. “Well, I do. It’s my past. Someone I need to take care of. Off books. I need backup.”

“And you want me to go with you?”

She shrugged. “You look like you’d enjoy hurting some bad guys.”

His shoulders slumped, he nodded. That was something he could do.

Which is how Steve found himself in Belarus, at a government facility on the edge of some unpronounceable city. Nat had gone in a few minutes before. He was supposed to give her five minutes, take out anyone that escaped unless she asked him to come in earlier.

His mind tried to go back, tried to take him back to that room, to the feel of the Winter Soldier’s lips on his, the feel of his breath on his skin, the way he’d groaned as he’d buried himself deep inside Steve, the way he’d been overwhelmed with pleasure when he realized just how much it was hurting Steve.

A gun cocked behind him. “Take off the headpiece now or I’ll blow your brains out.”

Steve froze. He knew that voice. “Why?” he asked instead.

No response but a foot came out of nowhere, kicking him in the back of the knee so he fell to the ground.

“Now,” he demanded. Steve tried to turn around.

“No. Not yet.”

Steve undid the chin strap, pulled the mask off and held it in his hand, his heart beating madly.

“I know the back of you. Your hair is the same. But your face is different. We have that technology too, you know. It’s interesting. Totally undectable, unless one sweats a lot and then there is the faintest hint of plastic in the air. If one is close enough. And we were very close Captain Rogers.”

“Is that why you wanted me to call you, Steve? Because you knew?”

“What?” he asked, almost sounding genuinely confused. “No, that was…something else. I didn’t know you were anything other than a beautiful face and a willing ass at the time. But then you were gone, overboard and I had to examine it all again. There weren’t that many people that could take the damage I inflicted and still find pleasure in it. I knew you had to be…enhanced in some way. You’re the most famous enhanced American in the world. As soon as I saw those shoulders, your ass, in pictures, I knew.”

“You wanted us here on purpose.”

“No, I wanted you here on purpose. It is known that you are friends with the Widow. I was expecting you.”

“Do you know who _you_ are? You’re Bucky Barnes. James Buchanan Barnes,” he said, aware he sounded desperate. He turned his head, looked over his shoulder.

“Put these on,”he said, and cuffs landed at Steve’s feet.

“You were like a brother to me. We are family.”

The shot was quiet, the pain in his shoulder searing. “You’re thinking I won’t kill you. That you can stall. You forget who I am. Do it now or the other shoulder is next.”

Steve reached down, hissing in pain as his shoulder muscles flexed, picked up the cuffs, slowly put them on one wrist, “You want to kill me somewhere else? Why not do it right here?”

“Killing is easy, Steve. Death is escape. Release. You know that’s not why I want you.”

He thought about fighting, then locked the other cuff on his wrist. He tested the metal.

“Vibranium cuffs. You’re not going anywhere,” the Soldier said, and he stepped forward, put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, pressing deep into the wound as he pulled him back so Steve’s head was against his stomach.

Steve swallowed a cry of pain, managing a soft grunt and the Soldier chuckled, let go of his shoulder then squeezed again. Steve’s head rolled back, pressing against the hard abs of the monster who had once been his friend. The flesh hand was on his throat then, cupping gently, thumb stroking his skin. He could smell his own blood, feel the tacky warmth of it as the Soldier held him tight.

“Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers,” he said, almost a plea and he shifted his hips and Steve felt the hard bar of the Soldier’s erection against his back. “Were we lovers? Is that why you have this effect on me?”

Steve shook his head, unable to speak.

“We’re leaving now. Come with me or I’ll kill her when she comes out.”

He hauled Steve to his feet, shoved him towards a dark sedan, and then he was unconscious.

 

***

Steve came to in what looked like a house. His arms were still cuffed and his legs were too, a chain now running between them which limited his ability to lift his arms and gain the momentum he would need before he could even attempt to get free. There was a thick bandage around his chest and shoulder where his wound had been dressed, and then there was some fur lined leather wrapped around him, keeping him upright and latched overhead to a hook in the ceiling. He lifted his head, looked around and saw the Soldier sitting at a small table, arms loose in front of him, legs spread carelessly, expression flat.

“We are miles from anywhere,” he said. “Completely off the grid. You won’t be found.”

“Why am I naked?”

“Still playing the coy virgin? Your suit was tossed just in case there was a tracker in it.” Steve tried to shake the feeling back into his hands. “And I want you easily accessible.”

“For what?”

No response. Not that one was needed because, really, it was pretty clear what the Soldier would want from him. The Soldier stood, picked up a glass, filled it with water and brought it to Steve. He put it to his lips, stood there patiently and waited for Steve to drink. He did, desperately thirsty. The angle was awkward and drops of water slid down the corner of his mouth and to his neck. The Soldier removed the empty glass and set it down then traced a finger down Steve’s jaw and neck, following the droplet. He leaned closer, licked it up just as it reached Steve’s nipple. He sucked hard and then harder and then bit in a slow, steady increase of pain until Steve was panting through clenched teeth.

He let go then, gave a delicate lick, which felt like sandpaper because he was so sore, and went to the other one. More rough treatment and when he finally finished playing, Steve’s nipples were red, swollen and throbbing.

It took a moment for Steve to catch his breath. “Is this your master plan then? To keep me here and rape me?”

The Soldier smiled, a quirking of one corner of his mouth. “Rape you? No. Fuck you, yes.” He gripped Steve’s hair hard, forced him to look at him. “You are more beautiful then your mask was. And I thought that was perfection. But this, your eyes, the pain in them, knowing who you really are and what you stand for, who you think _I_ am… it makes this even better.” He leaned close, “Because I know that _this_ is torture for you. You will give me everything because you love…me,” he said.

“No, I loved Bucky. You’re not him.”

“Sure, Pal,” he said, and it was Bucky’s voice and words, “you keep telling yourself that.”

“Bucky?” he asked, despite himself. Desperate.

The Soldier laughed and walked away. He heard movements then felt a hand on his ass cheek, lifting and separating, exposing him. A lube shooter was pressed against his hole and plunged into him.

“No, no,” he said, and tried to pull against the bonds and get free. They didn’t move. If anyone was going to know just how strong Steve was, it was the Winter Soldier. 

The Soldier stepped close, pressed his back against Steve’s, slid a hand around him to cup his balls and gently touch his shaft. “Just as I thought, Steve. Half hard already.” And he began to jack him, up and down, relentlessly, his other hand there too, fondling Steve’s balls, rolling them in their sack, tugging lightly away from his body so he felt nothing but aching pleasure. He was trembling in no time and then the touch stopped. He didn’t beg for it. He _wouldn’t._ He sagged in his bonds and tried to get his breath back, willing his dick to soften.

He could hear a zipper rasping open, then the sound of rustling behind him, the Soldier stripping off his clothes. A moment later he was back, body naked and pressed against Steve, cock poking blindly for Steve’s hole. He clenched up and there was a shushing sound behind him, “Relax. You want to tell me about him? About Bucky?”

Did he? Might it help him remember? There was no doubt in Steve’s mind it would be information the Soldier would use against him, but that didn’t mean he could pass up the chance to tell him about who he’d been and hope it somehow brought his friend back to him.

“We grew up together. Best friends since we were little. I was weak, he watched out for me.”

“But you weren’t lovers?”

“No,” he said, and he heard the regret in his words.

“Well, I’m not him but I think,” he said, words whispered into Steve’s neck, fingers opening his cheeks, the blunt head of his hard cock at Steve’s entrance. He pushed steadily, slowly, groaned deeply, rubbed a hand on Steve’s stomach as he told him to relax, to open. Steve closed his eyes, trying to do what the Soldier wanted.

And then he was seated, balls deep, a strong column of iron reamed up into him that he couldn’t escape, couldn’t stand and which was so alien and wrong that he had to bite back a cry. The pain was incredible, unique and it made him shiver. His head dropped low and he watched as his hard cock drooled pre-come, thriving off the pain, a traitor to his emotional ruin.

“Fuck you’re so good, sweetheart, I think he must have wanted you. Had to, because I do. I’ve never wanted someone like this. Sex isn’t that important to me, I’ve gone decades without sex and not really cared, but you….”

And then he began to move, ever so slowly, listening carefully Steve thought, to Steve’s body, his breathing, the tremor running through him. “Why me, then?”

“And that’s the question isn’t it— fucking hell I won’t last long. The heat inside you is…” His mouth locked onto Steve’s neck, bit hard and Steve shifted his feet a little, tilted his hips back and let out a sob. The Soldier released his skin with a chuckle, his breath on Steve’s skin. “So good, Stevie. So tight. Look at you, helping me, wanting to make it good for me even though it hurts you. That drives me wild,” he said, fingers clenching tight on Steve’s hips as he drew out and slammed home.

“Assassins are alone, Steve. Isolated. Above temptation. It’s been shocked and forced out of me over and over again. But you,” he said, and Steve clenched down on the cock inside him, felt the sharp pain of it morphing into pleasure anyway, some weird disintegrating ache that was spreading through him and making him someone else. Someone who gave in and didn’t fight. The Soldier must have felt the change. “That’s right, you want me to come in you, don’t you?” he demanded, fucking into Steve eagerly. It didn’t take long before he was coming, heavy spasms deep in Steve’s ass, the gush of come and he wished he could get to his own cock, so hard and needy, wanting to come too.

He wrapped his arms around Steve, a hug. He was panting, his chest sticking to Steve’s back and it was so good Steve tried not to cry. “I remember…a train. And sometimes I wake up to a feeling of falling. But it’s cold and there’s snow. It’s the only dream I have with a temperature. Was that real?” he asks, softly, pressing an almost chaste kiss against Steve’s neck.

“Yeah, yeah that was real,” he manages. “I couldn’t get to you in time. You died because I fucked up.”

He slowly pulled his cock out of Steve’s ass and walked around him, looking him in the eyes. “But I’m alive. You didn’t kill me. And here we are, all these years later. What do you think that means, Steve?” His head tilted to the side, so like Bucky, that he couldn’t stand it. He had to get out of here, now, or else he never would. He should look away from the Soldier’s face but it was so dear, so perfect and reminiscent of everything he’d lost that he couldn’t do anything but stare hungrily and wish he could memorize this moment, every detail.

His passage ached, was so sore that he grunted as he shifted on his feet. And then the Soldier was touching his cock gently, teasingly and in barely any time at all he was on the edge of coming. “Ask me to come. Say “Bucky, I’m gonna come,” the Soldier demanded.

It took every ounce of willpower to deny him, deny himself. “No.” The hand dropped away, his shaft aching, balls heavy with seed.

“Hmm, that shouldn’t be attractive but it is. You struggling even now. Tell me, Steve, why did you leave? We could have had two more days on that boat.”

He jerked his head to the right, staring at the wall.

Bucky walked away from him, left him there. He struggled but was secure, locked in tight. Slick and come leaked out of him, his cock very slowly began to wilt and he wasn’t sure what he spent the time thinking about but eventually the Soldier came back to him, loose dark linen pants on but the rest of him bare. The joint where shoulder met metal was a mess of scars. That was his fault too. “How do you think this is going to end? What are you going to get out of this?” Steve demanded.

He looked confused. “What a strange question. I get you.”

“But you know I’ll break free. At some point you’ll let your guard down, forget to tie me up right, _something_ and then you’re going to have to pay for this.”

He sighed, clearly thinking Steve was ridiculous. “What if the Avengers find me tomorrow? You going to let them kill me?”

Steve looked away.

“Exactly. You and I know why you left. Because you were scared. Scared that you want Bucky any way you can have him. And even worse then that, I think you’re scared you like this version of him. At least, you love the sex.”

“No,” he said, easily, relieved at the strength of his denial.

“We’ll see, baby. We’ll see.”

He left the room again and eventually returned. Had it been an hour? He was uncomfortable being strung up like this and he had to pee. Soon, the Soldier would let him out and that was when he’d make his escape.

The Soldier came back, sat down in a chair and watched Steve for a moment. He’d shaved. His hair was pulled back, off of his face, and he looked more like Bucky then ever. Steve swallowed hard against it.

“Here’s the situation, Steve. I like you. I’m…drawn to you. I want you to stay here with me. And you’re right, at some point I’m going to get careless and you’ll break free. Sex makes people careless. It’s dangerous to be careless around you. So, let’s make a deal. Three days you stay with me. I’ll let you go, you can wander around and have free rein of the house.”

“Where’s the catch?”

“Sex. I want you available and willing.”

Steve looked away, felt a blush high on his cheeks. He was about to say no when the soldier spoke again. “Here’s what I’ll give you. You can call me Bucky. You can tell me stories, try to jog my memory, ask me about my past and I’ll answer anything, _everything_ you want to know so long as it isn’t classified. Aren’t I the love of your life?”

“Peggy,” he says, throwing it out there like a shield.

The Soldier laughs, comes a little closer. “Sure, pal.”

“I have to let Nat know that I’m alright.”

“I’ve already done it. Put a note in the paper that Natasha will recognize. Said you’d be released in 3 days.”

The Soldier licked his lips and came right up into Steve’s space, reading Steve’s indecision. “Come on, sweetheart. Stay with me,” he said, just like Bucky had said to the girls. Brooklyn in his voice. They’d always said yes, too. He kissed Steve gently on the lips and Steve breathed in hard, wanting to pull away but unable to, not because of the bonds but because he wanted Bucky and he already knew he was going to say yes. That he couldn’t let the chance to get his friend back pass him by.

“You don’t want to remember.”

A hesitation. Brows pulled together as though he were genuinely thinking about it. “That’s not true. I don’t actually care. How could I miss what I don’t remember having? And why would I want to go back to being frozen and defrosted over and over again to kill people I have no grievance with? I have no loyalty to Hydra.”

“You don’t have any loyalty to me, either.”

“No, but I want to fuck you. I may never get enough of you,” his tongue swiped against the seam of Steve’s lips.

“Okay, I swear. Three days. I won’t try to escape.”

“And you’ll be willing?” he asked, one hand going back to Steve’s ass, sliding between his cheeks, middle finger and index sliding into him. Steve made a sound, and stood on his tip toes, trying to get away.

“I—Jesus, I’ll try. Yes.”

“Good, sweetheart,” he whispered, against Steve’s mouth and soft kisses were pressed into his lips, so gentle and tender that Steve found himself grinding back against the fingers inside him, gasping when he felt that perfect mix of sore and tender.

And then the Soldier pulled out of him and he reached up to the bonds, undoing them, setting him free. His hands came unclasped and he kept them at his sides, not knowing what to do with them.

The Soldier took one step back, went down to his knees in front of Steve and unlocked his legs, freeing him completely. His head was near Steve’s cock, his cock which was hard from the rough fucking and fingering and kissing and having him down there. The Soldier gave him a look, a question, and licked his lips. “From now on, call me Bucky.”

“I don’t--” Steve started to say, and _Bucky_ saved him from making some ridiculous denial, taking him in his mouth and sucking gently on the head of Steve’s cock and then going deeper. His knees went weak, hips thrusting forward automatically because it felt so good.

“Oh God,” he groaned and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, wishing he could make him understand just how incredible this was. Now he understood why men were obsessed with blowjobs. Seeing him down there, the feel of him, all of it was overwhelming. Bucky’s flesh hand cupped his balls then slid back, a knuckle pressing against his hole gently.

“No,” he said, and Bucky pulled off of him. “This will be pure pleasure,” he said, and went back to sucking. Steve relaxed after a few moments and the knuckle disappeared, was one finger ever so gently at his entrance and sliding in easily. He was loose, sloppy from earlier and after only a few gentle, almost careful thrusts the Soldier added another finger. He slipped his fingers in and out, sliding along Steve’s walls and then paused when he found Steve’s prostate. He rubbed gently, gauging Steve’s reaction.

It was good but it wasn’t…enough. “Harder,” he said, because there was something there. Some hint of feeling that told him this could feel amazing. Bucky picked up the pace, thrusting directly against his prostate and Steve began to shake. “Harder. Just a little bit— fuck,” he felt the burn then, the addition of a third finger which forced him open, made him hurt, was a counterpoint to the dull pleasure on his prostate, and the heat on his cock. It was good, so good. “I’m going to come,” he gasped. And he didn’t even try to stop himself now, didn’t bother trying and failing to keep up a mental divide of who was making him feel so good. “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky,” he chanted, staring at the face of the man he’d loved. And then he came. Bucky swallowed every drop and then got to his feet, pulled Steve in close to him, urging him to bury his face against his neck. He wrapped an arm around him awkwardly and held him there while Steve gathered himself.

“Come on, Stevie. Let’s go get you cleaned up. Then we can get dinner going.”

He wanted to say, ‘don’t call me Stevie,’ and he wanted to say, ‘don’t comfort me and pretend you actually care about me,’ but he couldn’t. He was so weak, so hungry for Bucky that he’d take this false affection, this make believe and hope that he’d get his friend back. Failing that, he hoped that a few days of this and he’d become strong enough to let the past go.

Bucky put him in the shower, stripped off his own clothes, and washed him, thoroughly. Carefully, as if he were memorizing every part of Steve. Each finger got attention, he got on his knees to wash Steve’s feet and his legs. He had Steve turn around and he washed his back in slow, gliding motions, the tension bleeding out of him.

“Every piece of you,” he said, against Steve’s bicep, and Steve leaned forward, crossed his forearms against the tile and rested his forehead there, shuffling his legs apart to give Bucky access to his hole.He touched him gently, cleaning him of slick and come, playing with him. A finger tugged gently on his rim and it zinged through him, made him look over his shoulder, half afraid and half hoping he’d want to fuck him again. 

He smiled instead, Bucky’s crooked smile, slightly chagrined and patted Steve lightly on the ass and left him alone. He rinsed him just as carefully and then he went to turn off the water and Steve stopped him. “What about me? My turn to wash you,” he said, more a statement then a question.

Bucky shrugged and stood there while Steve soaped up his hands and touched him, took just as much care with his body as he’d just been shown. Tears filled his eyes almost as soon as he started. How could this be everything to him and nothing to Bucky? 

He asked about scars and bullet holes, pressed softly against the harsh scars where his metal arm met his shoulder. His tears were replaced with rage when it became clear that Bucky had almost no knowledge of how he’d come by most of them. Missions were wiped.

Finally, Bucky turned off the water, dried Steve off and then waited patiently while Steve dried him off too, the intimacy of it all making his emotions hard to decipher. “So what about this? After our days together, you go back and they take it from you again?” he asked, voice rough.

Bucky gave him an odd look. “I’m not going back. That’s why you’re here. Now. I wouldn’t have endangered you like this, put you in such a vulnerable position if I was just going to go back to them. My time with Hydra, as the Winter Soldier is over.”

He started to walk out but Steve grabbed him by the flesh arm. “That’s big news. You can’t just say that and leave. Why? When?”

That unnatural blankness was there. Bucky had been so full of life and enthusiasm, of pure emotion, he never would have said anything so calmly. “After the boat. You left and I figured out who you were. What you’d been to…me,” he said, as if he were trying out the word. “I felt…angry and curious. I keep dreaming about you and the past.” He shook his head like he was confused, “Not knowing is weakness.”

And he led the way to the bedroom, spartan of furniture but with a king size bed. A hook in the ceiling, cuffs at all four points on the bed. He had questions, wondered if that was just for him or if Bucky had brought others here, if he liked that because of the torture he’d been through or what he thought about when he was hurting someone.

And while he knew he’d have to ask him at some point, it was easier to kick that question down the road for a bit. Because Bucky was now wearing jeans and a t shirt that was tight and perfect, walking around with bare feet that for some reason Steve found attractive, even disarming. A sign of vulnerability perhaps.

“Dress,” he ordered, and pointed to clothes for Steve to put on. Steve dressed, zipped up the jeans and put on the shirt. “It’s a bit tight, Buck,” he said, without thinking about it.

Bucky snorted, “Yeah, that’s the whole point. I gave you a shirt but I’m not hiding the view,” he said, tongue swiping the corner of his mouth as he looked at Steve. He dropped a hand absently to his crotch, adjusting himself. “I already want you again. But I’m hungry, too,” he smiled a little and it was like a knife through the heart. He’d seen that smile before. Bucky turned away and he went out to the kitchen. Pots and pans started clanging, drawers opening and closing as he prepped dinner.

How could he say something like that so casually? As if it wasn’t an earth shattering confession that Bucky wanted him. As if Steve hadn’t spent his entire life wishing for this very event to occur.

He followed him out there after a few minutes and his chest went tight with emotion when he saw Bucky standing there. He’d turned on the radio, 40’s jazz, was even singing along to the song very faintly while he cut up veggies for a salad. Steaks were on the counter and the light was on in the oven and he could see wrapped baked potatoes on the middle rack.

“That’s a big salad,” Steve said, eyeing the bowl.

He shrugged and continued to chop cucumber. “I love fresh vegetables. Nothing worse than canned or boiled vegetables.”

Steve chuckled. “That’s from before. Because it was all we ate. All the time. Between the depression and war, food wasn’t great growing up.”

A slow nod. He didn’t look up. “And the poverty. We were poor, right?”

“Why do you ask that?” Steve sat down on a bar stool and watched him work.

He paused, looked up at the ceiling as he thought about something. It had been Bucky’s gesture. “Was there a wall, a wooden wall that had a hole and we put paper in it to keep out the cold?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, there was. Our first apartment. The one we had together.” Bucky nodded. Steve sat up straight, pulled himself together and the Soldier turned to look at him, the grip on his knife changing subtly as if he might have to defend himself in a moment.

Steve held up his hands. “I’m not coming for you. I just, I don’t understand how much of this is real. How much of an act you’re putting on for me.”

Bucky’s brows rose in question. “For you? None of this is for you.”

It felt like a lie. Was that wishful thinking?

“Going down on me was for you?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I liked that,” he said, softly, as if he were reliving it. “But I’m not going to behave a certain way for you. This is just me. I have to be someone, don’t I? And so I go by instinct or habit, which means I like this radio station and sometimes I know the words although I’m sure I’ve never heard it before. The song before this, there was a dance for it, right? Two forward, one back, anyway I knew it.” He shrugged. Looked down at the bowl. “And when I fuck you tonight and you beg me to stop because you want it to be over but it’s making me hard, well that’s me, too. Damn. I put fennel in the salad,” he said, in the same tone, as if those two things went together.

They didn’t go together. 

“It’s fine. Just leave it,” Steve said, weakly. He hated fennel in salads. There’d been a summer when they were stationed in France and they’d eaten so much fennel because the farmer they were quartered with grew it, that Steve swore he’d never eat another bite of it again.

“Do people put fennel in salads?” Bucky asked, suddenly unsure.

“Um, sometimes. You like it. I don’t.”

“Oh,” he said, and that was that.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Steve told Bucky jokes during dinner. Jokes from their days in the Howling Commandos, some from when they were kids in Brooklyn that he knew Bucky had liked. And he still liked them. He’d laugh, head thrown back, like a totally normal, non-brainwashed person and he was so fucking beautiful it made Steve clench his hands into fists so he didn’t reach out and touch him.

After dinner, they cleaned up the kitchen and Steve felt the tension rising between them. Bucky’s hand would brush his, or he’d wind up standing close to him, then a hand would land on his hip as he scooted past him to put something away, and it meant that by the time they started the machine Steve was hard and anticipating being with him.

Bucky leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms and looked at Steve assessingly. Steve stepped forward, dropped down to his knees in front of Bucky and reached for his pants. “Can I?” he asked.

Bucky lifted a hand, set it ever so gently on Steve’s cheek. “Yes,” he said, seriously and Steve unbuckled his pants, pulled down the zipper and then hesitated, buried his face into the crease of Bucky’s thigh and breathed him in.

Clean laundry, the faintest hint of skin and it wasn’t enough, not at all, so he yanked down Bucky’s underwear and tried again, scenting him, tasting that strip of skin. Fingers carded into his hair, held him there hard for a moment and Steve’s cock pulsed in his pants.

Bucky let him go and Steve took him in his mouth, tasting him, stunned and aroused by the first bitter taste. His own hand dropped down, touching himself urgently as he bobbed up and down, sucking him firmly, wanting to take him deeper and deeper. Bucky kept his hips still, didn’t thrust, kept his hands on the counter while Steve tugged and laved at him. He added a hand, wrapped around his thick shaft, getting a better rhythm, doing his best to work him to an orgasm.

“Just relax,” Bucky ordered, and then he put a hand tight to Steve’s head and thrust into his willing mouth, deep but not enough to make him gag and Steve relaxed a little. He could do this. “Very pretty, baby,” Bucky said. “Feel so good, too. Hot, wet and tight. Not as tight as your ass, obviously… _there_ ,” he groaned and he shoved in deep, held still as Steve tried to cough, forced him to find his way through the sudden lack of air and panic, throat spasming. He held onto Bucky for dear life, hands wrapped around his thighs. Finally, Bucky pulled back, didn’t give Steve enough time to catch his breath before he was pressing deep again and chasing his own pleasure. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. Need you. So beautiful,” he breathed, staring at Steve’s face, one hand swiping a tear from Steve’s cheek. He brought it to his mouth, tasted it and wiped the other tear from Steve’s face, licking it off too and then rubbing his thumb against Steve’s cheek, feeling the outline of his own cock through Steve’s flesh.

The cock in his mouth pulsed, seemed to grow harder. “Ready doll face?” he asked, and Steve looked up at him, took a breath wanting to prepare himself for it, to be good for him. He wanted Bucky to groan in pleasure and come in his mouth, to be overcome with lust, for _him_.

Steve moaned eagerly and pressed closer, taking him as deep as he could. Bucky grabbed him, palms pressed to his cheeks, keeping him tight and close as he ground in, cock pulsing, body trembling on the edge of orgasm as he enjoyed the way Steve choked and groaned, struggled to keep his mouth open and not force himself out of Bucky’s grasp.

“Gonna come, sweetheart,” he said, and Steve was ready for it, his own cock so fucking hard. He could feel the wet patch on his pants, realized it was because his hips were moving, little thrusting movements that were beyond his control to stop. Bucky started to come, flooding Steve’s mouth with bitter fluid before pulling out and finishing on Steve’s face. Then he knelt down, took in Steve’s panting, touched the heated blush on his cheeks and reached for Steve’s pants. He unbuttoned them, reached in and pulled Steve out, jerked him hard and fast, watching him closely, silently demanding eye contact and Steve came almost instantly, leaning forward and burying his face in Bucky’s chest.

His chest was so warm and firm, he smelled like home, and Steve felt not just happy but complete. He was where he was supposed to be and with who he was supposed to be. And it had been good, so good, to have Bucky need him like that, to have a challenge and to succeed at it. He wasn’t sure that was how one was supposed to think about sex, as a personal quest or a chance to prove one’s self but it fit in so neatly with how he lived the rest of his life that it seemed perfectly reasonable.

“Thank you,” He murmured. “God that was so good,” and Bucky helped him to his feet, lifted Steve’s arms so they wrapped around his neck and picked him up in his arms, the metal arm recalibrating for his weight which seemed kind of funny for some reason. He rested his head on Bucky’s chest, listened for the steady thump of his heartbeat and was pretty sure three days would come and go and he’d still be here.

Bucky carried him through the house and to the bedroom. He lay Steve down and stripped him of his clothes, got a towel and cleaned him up while Steve lay there and watched him lazily. Uncaring about his own dishevelment. He stripped then and left the room, naked, turning off lights and checking doors and alarms. He came back a few minutes later, got into bed on the other side and pressed up against Steve’s back.

His fingers found Steve’s nipple, played with it roughly, began pressing his nail in until Steve’s hips pressed back. “You heal so quickly, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“I’m glad,” he said, even as he twisted Steve’s nipple painfully. “I do like to hurt you, baby. But I want you to be okay, too.” He moved his attentions to the other nipple and it didn’t take long before Steve was panting, cock getting hard again. Bucky was a rock behind him, his cock suddenly nestling between Steve’s cheeks. “Let’s sleep now. I’m going to want you in the night,” he said.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Want you too.”


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky woke in the night, heart pounding, listening intently as he wasn’t sure what had woken him. Steve was dead to the world next to him, sleeping deeply, a furnace against his back.

He got out of bed, grabbed a gun from the floor beside him and quietly crept out of the room to make sure they were safe. Twenty minutes later Steve shuffled out, a towel wrapped around his hips for some vague sense of modesty or something. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing, I think. I woke up and wasn’t sure if I heard something.”

“People looking for you?”

“More then the Avengers and Hydra, you mean?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed.

The man had a spectacular chest. Bucky went towards him, set the gun down on the table and pressed in close. “I was going to fuck you when I came back to bed.”

Steve drew in a breath, “I don’t see why that has to change.”

“You wanna ride me?” Bucky asked, and leaned closer, sucking Steve’s lower lip into his mouth.

“You mean, me, on top?”

He chuckled. “I meant you sitting on my cock but if you want to fuck me we can do that too.”

Steve shook his head, pressed soft kisses to his lips, gentle. “No, I don’t want that. At some point, yeah, I wanna be in you. But not right now. I always imagined it, you know,” Bucky couldn’t keep his hands off of him any longer, touched his waist and went up to his chest, rubbed a finger over his nipples, felt the weight of each breast in his hand, the firm mound of muscle jumping in response.

“Look at the tits on you, sweetheart. Make a nice pillow for my cock, couldn’t I?” Steve dropped a hand down to his own crotch, fondling himself through the towel. Bucky smiled at him. “Take it off. Finish what you were saying. What did you imagine?” he leaned closer, licked across Steve’s nipple and felt the way his body jolted in response. His Stevie was so sensitive.

“You um, you coming home from work, being tired, and sitting down on the couch, and I’d be ready for you, climb on your lap and make you feel good.” Steve took him by the hand, led him to the couch and gave him a kiss, “Where’s the lube?” he asked, voice muffled against Bucky’s mouth. Bucky pulled the towel off of him and Steve made a sound. Bucky smacked him on the ass, hard and Steve squeaked. Actually, squeaked, then pulled back and looked at him with slightly wide eyes.

“Did you just… spank me?”

“I did. And judging by your reaction I think I’m going to do more of it. Go get that lube, sweetheart. I’m getting impatient.” He shoved Steve back, and he didn’t stumble but he staggered back a step. Blinking rapidly. Bucky didn’t know why he liked keeping him so off balance, why it seemed like every gesture of kindness needed to be followed up by something a little darker, sharper or more real, but there it was.

Bucky laid out the towel, anticipating a mess and sat down on it, thighs spread, fondling himself casually while he waited. A moment later Steve came back, lube in hand. “Straddle me. I want to watch your face while you open up for me,” he said, and Steve put an arm on either side of him and settled on his lap, legs open, fumbling with the bottle of lube. Bucky grabbed Steve’s tits in his hands and began to play with them, palming them, squishing them together, pinching his nipples. Steve’s cock flexed and dribbled onto Bucky’s stomach.

“This is awkward,”Steve said, as he slid a hand down between them, hand disappearing as he touched his hole.

“It is, isn’t it?” Bucky asked, and kissed him on the neck. “I’ll help you,” he breathed, and slid his hands down, grabbing his cheeks and pulling them wide open.

Steve groaned and Bucky heard the sound of lubed fingers pushing in deep and pulling out again. “How many fingers is that, baby?”

“Two,” Steve gasped.

“What happened to one?” he growled, knowing the answer.

“I want you. Want to be good for you.”

“Fuck, you are.”

Steve hissed at the burn of it and Bucky smacked him on the ass, hard, the sound echoing in the room. He felt it in his hand and did it again, over and over, watching Steve’s face, able to time it so he’d smack him hard as he sank his fingers in, the occasional wince making him wonder how pleasurable it was. It should hurt but with the state of Steve’s cock he couldn’t be sure. 

“Beautiful, beautiful boy. What I wouldn’t do for you,” he said, and he wrapped a hand around Steve’s cock and jerked him loosely. “You ready for three?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and it was petulant, his lower lip pouting. Bucky growled at the sight of it, dragged Steve’s hand away from his ass and latched onto his hips,pulling him closer. Steve braced himself against Bucky’s shoulder, thighs straining as he fought the pull.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll go slow,” he said, and kissed him. Steve’s mouth fell open, breath whooshing out of him as Bucky kissed him deep and hard. He felt the man go boneless above him, felt the jerk of his cock and the wetness of pre-come meeting his fingers.

“I’m not ready. Can’t you wait?” Steve asked, but he wasn’t fighting anymore, was letting his body be pulled closer and closer, raising up a little, hand taking Bucky’s cock and squeezing gently.

“Fuck, no, baby doll. I can’t wait. Got to have you now. I want you too bad. Can’t you feel how hard you made me?” he asked, and Steve kissed him desperately, placed the head of Bucky’s cock at his opening and started lowering himself, the sudden grip indicating how uncomfortable it was.

“Shhh,” he said, as Steve whimpered and kept pressing down, his body unbelievably tight and resistant. He panted, body shaking.

“Slower,” Bucky ordered. Steve threw his head back, and Bucky put a hand on his neck, squeezing gently. “Stay where you are. Don’t you move, Stevie.”

“Stevie,” he breathed, the joy in hearing Bucky say it, evident in his tone.

“Gonna help you, sweetheart, get you nice and open for me,” he said, and he put his other hand down between them, stroking along Steve’s rim, hot, tight and stretched so wide. “You should feel this. Wanna put my finger in too,”

Steve clamped down on his cock and Bucky moaned, unable to tell if Steve was excited by the idea or afraid. Probably both. He rubbed at him there, massaged his taint and let Steve breathe and adjust. After a few moments his breathing began to even out, the clench loosening a little, “Take more, sweetheart,” he demanded. “Need to be in you.”

“Okay, Okay…Bucky.”He did it, with a whimper, another half inch swallowed up by his body.

“What were you going to say? What were you going to call me?”

“Nothing,” Steve breathed and he moved his hips a little, back and forth, an obvious but no less effective strategy to distract him. Bucky rubbed him, soothing him and kissing him until he unclenched again.

“More sweetheart, you can do this.”

Steve shifted, took more of Bucky and his body spasmed hard, tears springing to his eyes. Bucky kissed him, wrapped his arms around him and pulled them close. Steve whimpered, cried out but Bucky couldn’t think about nice or patient anymore, all he could hear were those whimpers, feel the blood pounding in his body and his cock and he needed more of that, needed to own this man over him, remind Steve of where he belonged, who he belonged to. He shifted up as he pulled him down and then he was all the way seated, feeling Steve’s wet heat gripping him tight.

He pushed Steve back, pressing on his stomach harder and harder, til the plates of his arm engaged and Steve had no choice but to lean back, to put his hands on Bucky’s knees to stay upright and Steve cried out, his ass so fucking tight Bucky thought he might lose it right then and there.

“Bucky, Bucky, please,” he said, and Bucky spared a glance for him, saw the pain etched into his features, but that was a lie. That wasn’t real. What was real was Steve’s hard cock, was Bucky’s own throbbing cock and his need to claim him. He dropped his hand down, jerked Steve hard and fast and suddenly he was coming, ass clenching on Bucky as the waves pulsed through him, his cock spitting all over Bucky’s stomach, up his chest, even to his jaw.

He put a hand behind Steve’s neck, dragged him closer, “Lick it up,” he said, and he started to move his hips in small movements, enjoying the clutching muscles of Steve’s ass. He licked Bucky’s jaw, cleaned up the mess there body jerking in small shocks with each tilt of Bucky’s hips.

“Too sensitive,” he gasped.

“Does it hurt, baby?” he asked. And he picked up the pace, able to see how it was affecting Steve, hear it in his breathing, the set of his lips as he let Bucky use him. “Fuck, I love that. All of your attention is right here, on me. The slightest move and I own you.”

“But…it hurts. Please, stop,” he said, weakly.

Bucky dragged Steve close again, arms around his shoulders, keeping him close as he fucked up into his body in sharp little movements. “Liar. You can always say Red. You can fight for real. You just like to say no. You don’t actually want me to stop. This is what you need. Always have. No more fights in alleys for you, no more looking for violence. I’m going to hurt you better, deeper, then some stranger ever could. And you’re going to thank me.”

“You remember?” he asked, and he clutched onto Bucky, groaned and whimpered as he helped Bucky get deeper, smoother.

“Touch yourself.”

“Sensitive.”

“Don’t care. Do it,”

“Yes…Bucky,” he said, and there it was again. Some other word he’d been about to say. Love? Baby? Sir? Hell, maybe he was going to call him James. He had no idea but he was going to.

“Tell me what you’re keeping back from me.”

“Nothing,” he said, “Oh, it’s too much!” and Bucky reamed into him deeper, watched as Steve jerked himself to hardness again.

“Look how easy that was. You’re ready to go again, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, panting, shaking.

“I want you to admit that you love this. That you’re a slut for it.”

“I love you,” he said, instead, soft and sincere. Bucky sneered at him.

“This ain’t love, sweetheart. It’s more, now raise yourself up, fuck me properly.”

Steve shifted, rose up on his thighs and lowered himself down, the glide easy now. His eyes were fixed on Bucky though, searching for something. Hell if he’d find whatever it was he was looking for.

“You love me, too,” he said, confidently.

“I do, Stevie. It feels like pain, makes my chest hurt and my head pound,” and as Steve came down on him, grinding deep and moaning with pleasure Bucky felt the emotion well up inside him, blood hot and nightmarish. He threw Steve down to the couch and shifted on top of him, drove his cock into him sharply and fucked him hard and fast. Steve lifted up to kiss him but Bucky was done with that, used his metal arm to shove Steve’s face to the side, exposing his neck, making him weak and he sank his teeth into Steve’s neck, hard, then harder, felt Steve coming between them, the clenching muscles sparking his own orgasm as he came long and hard.

“That’s a hell of a show,” a low, female voice said from behind him, and then he felt the jab in his ass as she drugged him.

He tried to cling to consciousness, tried to fight it but could barely move. “Took you long enough,” he heard Steve say and then he was out. 


	6. Chapter 6

Steve had no choice but to push Bucky off of him, a loud thud echoing around them as he hit the floor. “Jesus, Rogers. Cover yourself,” Nat said, and Steve sat up, wincing as his ass touched the couch. He grabbed the towel and wrapped it around himself, standing on shaky legs.

Nat disappeared down the hall and came back a moment later, throwing pants towards him. “Put those on lover boy there,” she said, gesturing towards Bucky. “I’ll be outside. Let me know when he’s ready for transport.” She turned the light on as she left, and Steve knelt down next to Bucky’s unconscious body, staring at him, the smoothness of his features, asleep and drugged making him look youthful.

Bizarre to think they’d ever been so young. And innocent. That was gone now, he thought, darkly. He put pants on Bucky and found a bag Nat had left for him filled with cuffs and restraints so he couldn’t escape while they took him to Wakanda for deprogramming.

Bucky had called him sweetheart, doll face and baby. He spoke so sweet and low, kinder, the more he was making it hurt and the truth of it was it made Steve crazy, made him so unbelievably aroused he couldn’t hardly stand it. His ass would ache tomorrow, his neck was throbbing from the bite and when he’d shoved Steve on his back, fucked into him like an animal, like Steve was some _thing_ he was trying to conquer, Steve hadn’t been able to do anything more then come and come and come. He could lose himself to that. To Bucky’s darkness.

He hauled him up in his arms, dragged him along and out the door to where Nat was. “Quinjet should be here in a few. Might want to get a shirt. Turtle neck or something. Your neck is raw, my friend.”

Steve clapped a hand over it and went back into the house. He found a shirt with a collar and put it on (it was ridiculously tight, of course) and came back out, searching the sky for the Quinjet. He saw nothing.

“You know, he’ll be different once he’s deprogrammed. Like he used to be. At least a bit. Less…carnivorous.”

“Ha ha.” He rubbed his hands over the knees of his pants absently. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Believe me, talking about this is the last thing I want to do.”

“Good,” Steve said.

Nat blew out a breath. “Which is why this is such a shame. Not for nothing but you looked pretty into it, Steve. And that’s okay. People like weird stuff in the bedroom, apparently even Captain America, embodiment of old fashioned values and all that’s good and right in the world.”

“Are you trying to help me? Because you’re horrible at it.”

“Hey, I was there for five minutes. I let you both finish. You’re welcome.”

“Jesus, where is that plane?”

“Fine. But if you need someone to talk to, let me know.” And then the yard lit up with light and the jet landed, they got on board and took off for Wakanda. Bucky started to wake a few hours into the journey and Nat drugged him again. They landed several hours later and Steve felt sick to his stomach as he talked to Shuri about the plan.

He was going to freeze Bucky again. Temporarily but that didn’t make it better. And hopefully, he’d be deprogrammed, sooner rather than later, and then he could take him back to New York.

Easy. In theory. He could only nod his agreement, too choked up to speak, feeling like he was betraying Bucky by letting him be put under and prodded again. He was shown to a guest room and he sat down on the bed and fell asleep, waking up a few hours later to pee and decided he was absolutely disgusting.He stumbled into the shower, cleaned himself thoroughly, brushed his teeth and went to the kitchen, finding food there. He ate and stumbled back to bed, dreaming of Bucky being swallowed by ice over and over again until he couldn’t take it anymore and then went and stared out the window, watching the sun rise in brilliant golds and pinks over Wakanda.

 

**Two Months Later**

 

 

“He’s awake,” Shuri said, as soon as Steve answered the phone, her voice chipper and more then a little smug.

“Is he alright?” Steve asked, standingup from the dining room table and heading out of hearing distance for a little privacy.

“He’s about as well as can be expected. He’s not going to go into a murderous rage which is what’s really important but he’s still a man, out of time and context, who’s undergone extensive torture and brain washing. So, he’s…okay,” she said, and he could practically see her shrugging.

“Well, yes, I suppose. Can I talk to him?”

There was an overly long pause. “He’s not here at the moment. I just wanted you to know his status.”

“Wait,” Steve said, voice hard. “Where is he?”

“He’s living in a hut a few miles away. The children call him the White Wolf. It’s cute, really.”

“Children?”

“So, I’m assuming we should expect your arrival soon, Steve?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“Yes, um, yes, I’m on my way,” he said, moving towards his quarters before he’d even hung up the phone.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked, materializing before him and blocking his way. He wasn’t in the mood for whatever she was about to say.

“Wakanda. Bucky is awake.”

“Great. So, leave tomorrow?”

“What? No. I’m going now,” he said.

Nat grabbed his arm, stopping him. “Sharon is out there. We haven’t even had dessert yet. Don’t you think you should stay until _after_ dinner?”

He pulled his arm out of her grip, dropped his voice to a whisper. “No, because you invited her. You’re the one who keeps bringing her around, throwing her at me, when you know I’m not interested.”

“That’s harsh.She’s smart, interesting and beautiful. She’s a friend. And if I happen to like the idea of you with someone sane, stable and who hasn’t tried to kill everyone here, well, that’s not too unreasonable, is it?”

“You have no idea what he is, who he is to me.”

“ _Was_. Decades ago. I’m not trying to be a bitch here, but the best friend you grew up with and the sadist who kidnapped you are two different people. One was kind and the other was—“

“Nat, you’re a good friend. And I value that a lot, but I’m telling you now, Bucky is….” How the hell was he supposed to finish that sentence? He would choose Bucky over anyone any damned day of the week. He would do _anything_ to have Bucky like he’d always wanted him and if that meant the sex was dark and all-consuming, well, he was a lot more on board with that then she probably wanted to know. “I’m going to Wakanda. I’m going now. And beyond that it’s none of your business.”

Less then twenty four hours later he was in Wakanda. He’d been taken immediately to Shuri and she’d given him a pained look, uncomfortable. “Where is he?” Steve asked, looking around.

“I’ll take you to him. How was your flight?”

“He’s not here to meet me?”

“He…he doesn’t actually know that I called you. My brother felt obligated to tell you. He is there now, informing James of your arrival.” He swallowed hard. No one called Bucky ‘James’. Well, they hadn’t seventy years ago, at any rate. _Maybe it’s just another thing you don’t know about him._

He followed her out of the building and outside, the day warm, making the back of his neck break into a sweat almost instantly. “So, tell me about his treatment?”

“It has gone well. I’m sure he can give you more information,” she said, repressively. “He has undergone a lot of trauma and I know he feels a lot of guilt for the things he’s done. The people he’s hurt,’ she said, not looking at him directly.

He wondered what Bucky had told her but didn’t want to ask. He’d ask Bucky himself. They walked in silence then and Steve felt his anxiety rising with each step closer to his friend. His lover. His link to the past and his bridge to surviving the future. He needed Bucky and he prayed that Bucky needed him, too. 

And then he saw King T’Challa come out of a small, wooden structure and behind him was Bucky. Long hair pulled back in a bun, his dress a mix of Western and Wakandan and he had a new arm, dark metal and if Steve had to guess he’d say Vibranium. “I made that,” Shuri said, beside him. “He gets a lot more done with a second arm. I wonder how much he’d accomplish with a third arm.”

“Very funny,” Bucky said, giving Shuri a soft smile. He turned to Steve, his expression far less warm, tense even.

Steve exchanged greetings with the King, having no idea what either of them said, every atom of his being pulling him towards Bucky, needing to speak to him, watch him and touch him. His gaze slid over to Bucky’s again and after a long, awkward moment where Steve suspected he might have missed being asked a question, the King and Shuri left them there, walking back towards the palace.

Bucky looked so good. So healthy and strong. Vital. He looked at Steve, up and down, then away, jaw clenched tight. Finally, he nodded. “Want to help me take care of the animals for the night?”

“Animals? What do you know about taking care of animals?”

“I fed an alley cat or five back in the day. Now its cows, pigs, a few goats. Just the same.”

“Sure, pal. Of course it is,” And then Bucky was walking, expecting Steve to follow, apparently not wanting to have this conversation without something else to focus on. He hoped that the distraction would make this talk easier. The dread Steve felt, the overwhelming emotion was sitting in his stomach, crawling up his throat like something large and alive.

Steve heard the animals before he saw them, watched in astonishment and a rising sense of dismay as Bucky competently rounded up various animals and fed them. Shuri’s comment about how much work Bucky got done made more sense as a horrible suspicion came to him. “How long have you been awake?” he asked, hoping his voice was steady.

“Two weeks, I think?”

Wow. That was like being stabbed in the heart. “I only just got the call. From Shuri.” The accusation was there. Bucky should have called him. Bucky didn’t even look at him. He went to a trough, absently petted a pig — a damned pig!— and then poured food into the trough, before coming back towards him. That pig had just gotten more affection then he had.

“How long are you staying?” Bucky asked, standing several feet away from him. As if the last thing he might want in the world was to stand close to Steve. He’d endured many things in his life, would consider himself principled enough to accept hard decisions that were morally correct and which meant that people decided he was brave just because he was willing to accept sacrifice. But this wasn’t one of those things he could accept.

“You want me to go?”

Bucky looked at him, finally made eye contact, the look of revulsion on his face something he hadn’t seen on him since their days during the war. “I can’t imagine you want to be here. I’m alive. I…owe you a debt of gratitude for saving me. I always will. But you don’t have to be here. I don’t expect anything of you, Steve,” he said, softly, kindly, as if he were doing Steve a kindness by cutting him out.

He swallowed hard, crossed his arms over his chest to protect himself. His voice was rough, “Where would I go? Who else would I be with?” _What is there for me if I’m not with you?_ But that was a big statement and he wasn’t sure he was that brave, after all. Not when Bucky wouldn’t even touch him. “Bucky, you’re…even when we had nothing, we had each other. I had you, anyway.” Maybe it was more one sided then he’d thought. Bucky had always had his family.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, shoulders slumping. “And I…destroyed us. I’m sorry, Steve. Honestly, I am. I don’t know how I’ll be able to live with myself after what I did to you—“

“What are we talking about here? You trying to kill me on the Helicarrier or…the boat.”

Bucky flinched. Shoulders slumped a little. But he looked up, stared at Steve directly in the eyes, as if just looking at Steve required courage. “Or after that. When I took you. Blackmailed you, threatened you for…for sex. Fuck, Steve, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. To do.” And he turned away, radiating shame.

“I don’t want an apology for that. There were two of us there, Buck. I was…willing. It scares the hell out of me how willing I was.” And how much he’d missed it over the last few months.

He’d been a pretty simple guy once upon a time. His right hand was good and he had fantasies about his best friend. But then he’d experienced sex with him, found a depth of feeling and sensation that he hadn’t even considered and now his fantasies were different. Now he imagined being held down, taken roughly, he imagined saying no to Bucky and Bucky needing him too much to stop.

He loved the idea of saying no, of fighting and being broken down so much that he’d actually looked it up, thought about going to a therapist. Rape play. Dubious consent. Playing at non-consent. “You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. I’ve never experienced something like that, Buck.”

“Ever the saint. But, no, I’m not going to let you brush that all aside. It wasn’t okay.” Bucky turned away from him, trying to walk away, put distance between them.

“You know what you haven’t said?”

A sigh. “What?” he asked, stopping but not looking at him.

“Are you saying you don’t like that, anymore? Hell, maybe you don’t even like guys anymore. Was that part of how messed up you were?”

“Steve.”

“No. Are you going to tell me you didn’t like it?” he demanded, and he felt tears filling his eyes.

Bucky seemed confused almost, shoulders hunched in, gaze roaming the barn for answers. Finally, he said, “That seems like the _least_ relevant part of it. Who gives a shit if I liked it? That’s like asking a serial killer if he had a good time. Who cares?”

“No, it’s not. And I care. It was a mistake, I get that. But we were both there. I…I’ve always wanted you, Buck. I’ve imagined you wanting me all my life. That has always been my fantasy. And you did want me. Didn’t you? Cause you sure sounded like you did. It felt like you did. I don’t regret it,” he said, saying it like a vow. A promise. To the end of the line.

“Then you’re an idiot,” he said, turning around and stomping up to Steve, getting into his face, the threat of violence rolling off of him. It shouldn’t have made Steve hard but apparently it was. _This_ was Bucky. Impassioned, coming for him, _to_ him, Steve being the architect of that violence of emotion.

“Yeah, it’s been said before.” He swallowed hard, looked at Bucky’s lips, found himself almost swaying forward. He put a hand out, onto Bucky’s shoulder and the man stumbled back from him, eyes wild and afraid.

“I need you to leave. I can’t do this, I’m sorry, Steve. I am.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he said, horrified.

“Then I’ll go back under again. Is that what you want? Or I can take myself out. You tell me whatyou want and I’ll do it,” his voice cracked, the words gasped.

“Take yourself out? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Never mind,” he said, trying to walk away.

“No. Explain yourself. You’d leave me here? Kill yourself and abandon _me_? You are not that selfish.”

“I think you’ve seen how selfish I can be.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, and oh yeah, he could remember how selfish he was. His cajoling words, getting off on the idea that Steve was overstimulated, in pain but would give Bucky more of himself if that’s what he wanted. “So, is that the real you, then? The stuff we did, what you liked, was that always who you were? That’s what this is about, right?”

He shook his head, rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I don’t know. I don’t know who I was. Didn’t you love Peggy? Weren’t you the ultimate romantic who carried a god damned picture of her in your watch even though you’d never even bedded her?” He sounded bitter.

“Why are you turning this back around on me?” he took a step closer, didn’t miss the way Bucky stiffened warily. “I had her picture and I wanted to love her because that’s what we were supposed to do. Because she was a good woman and a friend. I didn’t deserve her. I don’t know if I would have been able to make her happy. Fuck, apparently I can’t make anyone happy. But I would have tried. And you know why?”

He waited. Waited for Bucky to ask.

He swallowed. “Why?”

“Because every god damned woman we met wanted to spread her legs for you. And one day you were going to get married, and I was going to have to see it, be there, be a god-father to your children and the idea of doing that and having no one was enough to make me want to eat my own gun.”

“Stevie, you don’t mean that.”

That was the final straw. He lunged forward, shoved a hand into Bucky’s chest, forcing him backwards, and advancing again. “No, that’s the last time you get to tell me what I do or don’t want! The way those girls spoke about you. I was…I was invisible before the serum. They talked about how sweet you were, they giggled and blushed. I wondered, hell I agonized over what you might do to them. What I wasn’t getting and never would.”

He laughed unhappily. “Well, congratulations. You too got to spread your legs for me. How was it, Steve? You cried. I remember that.And when you did, fuck, I just wanted to _bury_ myself in you. The sounds you made. Whimpers and…and worse.” He squeezed his eyes closed against it. Bitter and ashamed. “I wake up in the night, Steve.” A horrible confession. “I should think about the people I killed. But I don’t. They have no faces. That’s all wiped away. I wake up to the sounds you made, remembering the taste of your tears and how much I wanted to break you down and _own_ you.” He shook his head, looked down at the ground. “You always thought I was better then I was. Like _I_ was the fucking hero. The truth is, I wasn’t good enough for you then, and I sure as hell aren’t good enough for you now. Go home, Steve.”

“I’m glad you don’t see them,” he managed, barely more then a whisper. “I hate to think of you torturing yourself for something you couldn’t control. You were a victim, Buck.”

“Yeah, and so what did I do? When I got hold of you? I made you _my_ victim.”

Steve went towards him, made a fist, telegraphing his intentions, wanting a fight, needing something more from him then this broken shell of a man. But Bucky did nothing to defend himself. Steve punched him in the face, saw the blood on his lip, watched as his head whipped to the side and he stumbled. “Don’tyou dare tell me I’m your victim. Fuck you, Bucky. Maybe that isn’t who you were, maybe the Winter Soldier was some sadistic bastard instead, but I know who I am. It was a fucking revelation.The bruises, the way it hurt, I can’t even tell you.” He wanted to cry. And if he did cry then he wanted a hug from Bucky to make it better and he wasn’t going to get that, either. He shouldn’t have come here. “Fine, go back to the giggling girls if that’s what you want. Since we were a mistake. But, what a waste. I would do _anything_ for you.”

“Don’t say that.”

“No, actually, I _get_ to say that. You don’t want what we had, it made you ashamed, okay, that’s fine. But I don’t want to live like that. Every bruise made me hard, every time I sat down and felt where you’d been…in me, Bucky, you were _inside_ me,” he said, wishing he could make him understand how wondrous it was. How good it had made him feel to give Bucky that. “And I felt…whole. Yours. Loved. Congratulations if you can go back to being boring and vanilla because I can’t.”

“What does that mean? You’re threatening me?” he asked, quietly. Steve wasn’t sure he understood the question.“You’re Captain God damned America, you can’t just go to some kinky club and pick up some asshole to fuck you blind and beat you up.”

He blinked. Well, of course not. He hadn’t been thinking of picking up some stranger to get his kicks with.

Oh. _Oh._ This was jealousy. He could work with that. Steve huffed out a breath. “Well, fortunately for me, your opinion is now irrelevant. I get to leave here and drowned my sorrows. And I can’t get drunk,” he said, shrugging his arms up to say, ‘what else can you do?’ Willing to let Bucky think he was going to leave here and go get laid. Violently laid.

He turned around, started walking out of the barn and he heard Bucky coming after him, each step loud, agitated. Bucky grabbed him by the arm, turned him around and found himself going weak at just that touch. The grip on him, the fury on Bucky’s face, the way he crowded Steve and moved them both back until Steve hit the wall, letting an oof of sound come out of him.

He wrapped his arms around Bucky’s neck, pulling him in, pushing his hips out in invitation, kissing him where his split lip was, taking the taste of Bucky’s blood inside him, the feral lust of it making him grind closer.

“Steve, no,” he said, sounding shocked and horrified, lifting his head.

Steve followed him, kissed him hard, bit his lip and slid his hands down, cupping the bulge of Bucky’s hardening cock, fingers trembling as he fumbled the button and the zipper. He was sinking down to the ground before he’d even gotten the button done, rubbing his face against his crotch, trembling with how much he wanted him, needed him.

“Up, for God’s sakes,” Bucky hissed, reached down with his metal arm and he hauled Steve up from the ground, dragging him out of the barn and towards his hut. Steve stumbled along with him, practically fell into the cottage but righted himself and shoved Bucky hard, so that he landed on the twin sized bed that took up almost a third of the space. Rustic was an overstatement for this odd little hovel.

Bucky landed on the bed, shifted to stand back up but Steve was there, lowering himself over him, straddling him and shoving him back down. “No, I’m not leaving you. And you don’t want me to,” Steve said, grinding against Bucky, shameless in his lust and need, letting Bucky hear how much he wanted him, his panting breaths, his shaking legs and his hard cock. He reached between them, undid his own pants, wrapped a hand around himself awkwardly and began to stroke himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Stop me then. If you don’t like it. If you don’t want me to, Bucky, you make me crazy. Even now,” he said, and he adjusted his grip, tight and rough, making a challenge of it.

Bucky growled low in his throat, forced them upwards and Steve let him, was suddenly on his back and then Bucky was ripping Steve’s pants down to mid- thigh, something ripping, and Bucky turned him over onto his stomach. “Stay there,” hegrunted, and he disappeared into the bathroom and came back a moment later, a small bottle of lube in his hand.

“Please,” Steve said, lifting his ass in offering. Bucky stared at him, anger and lust a brilliant combination warring on his face. He yanked his pants open, shoved them down, just enough and then opened the lube, slicked himself up, came to Steve, poured a generous amount down Steve’s crack and then blanketed him with his body.

“You make me crazy, you know that.”

“Prove it. God, I want fo feel it.”

“I can…I can do better, be better. Stop moving. Let me openyou up a little, first.”

“No.” Steve growled, felt his hole clenching in fear and anticipation. How could he want something and be terrified of it at the same time? And why was that the magic formula, the thing that made his cock leak and his balls feel ready to explode? “Just fuck me.”

He heard Bucky inhale, felt the swipe of his finger over Steve’s hole as he touched him there. “I’ve missed you. You don’t even know how hard it’s been without you. I just want to know that you’re here. That you still want me. That you have to have me,” he clarified, trying to move back, to force Bucky into action.

“Stevie. My love. How can I love you and want to hurt you?”

Steve put his hands out to the side, fingers spread in invitation, felt Bucky shift, drape himself on Steve’s body and rest his weight on Steve’s back, his hands sliding up Steve’s arms until he found his hands, linked their fingers together, the gesture so sweet Steve felt tears fills his eyes. “Need you, Buck. I love you. And I want this.”

And Bucky kissed his neck, his ear, his breath a damp exhalation onhis skin. “I need you too, Steve. Always been you,” he said, and he pressed in, relentless, cock head pressing into Steve, the muscle forced open, Steve whimpering in sharp breaths, urging his body to relax. It hurt, made him feel alive and he heard himself making sounds, low and tortured, then higher and softer as Bucky continued to drive himself deeper, coring into him.

“So good, sweetheart,” Bucky said, and then he was flush against him and Steve was shaking, so close to coming. Wanting to beg him to stop and to go deeper, he just wanted more.

“You gonna come, sweetheart? I feel you shaking apart on me.”

“Think so. Fuck, I think so,” he gasped.

“Let me help you,” he said, dark and seductive and he pulled out, all the way out and Steve whimpered at the loss. Bucky pulled back, lifted himself away, another drizzle of lube on his ring, colder this time, or maybe he was hotter there, the burn of it making him warm. “Can’t keep me out now, sweetheart. You’re so slick,” he whispered.

“No, no. Don’t want to. Need you in me,” he said, but he wasn’t sure he got the words out before Bucky was sinking back into him, forcing him open, somehow worse then the first time, more unrelenting. There was no escape. His ass clenched, spasmed on the invading shaft and Bucky groaned and fucked into him hard, stealing Steve’s breath.

“I love you, Steve,” he said, and it sounded like he was crying. “One more time. Can you take it again?”

“I don’t…I don’t know. If you…ifthat’s what you want?” He slurred.

“It is. And you want to give me what I want, don’t you, doll?”

“Yes, Buck, please.” Why was that the one that got to him? His cock slid out, Steve’s hole protested. Bucky pulled back again, cold air all along Steve’s back, put a finger against his rim, stroked the swollen flesh tenderly.

And then he spit on Steve’s hole, and for some reason he really didn’t understand, Steve found himself feeling grateful, saying thank you, and Bucky put the head of his cock back in place, sank in slowly, so slowly and when he was balls deep again, grinding in that last extra inch, Steve’s cock drooling under him so hard and aching, Bucky took his hands again, fingers sliding between Steve’s and that was all it took before he was coming hard, so hard that he couldn’t even breathe until it was over.

“So good, sweetheart,” Bucky said, and then he began to move, each shift and thrust an agony and a benediction. His. Bucky was his. And he was Bucky’s. It didn’t take long before he was coming deep in Steve’s ass, each jerk of his cock feeling like it was spearing him open.

And then he collapsed onto Steve, just lay there, knowing he could take it. “I love you, Buck. Promise me you believe it.”

“I believe you. I love you, too.”

“We work, Buck. Anything you want, I want. And if I don’t, you know I’ll say. Keeping my mouth shut about stuff I don’t like isn’t my problem.”

Bucky laughed. “That’s true. There never was a bigger punk in all of Brooklyn.”

“Will you come home with me, then? Please?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, I will.”

 

 


End file.
